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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893191">If She Had Known</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whattheheckkristen/pseuds/Whattheheckkristen'>Whattheheckkristen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Calanmai, Canon Divergence, F/M, Time Travel, Under the Mountain - Freeform, feysand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:42:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whattheheckkristen/pseuds/Whattheheckkristen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw a fic about Feyre and Rhysand going back in time to fix their mistakes, but things still go horribly awry. it was great. but my heart needs some nonsensical fluff.<br/>This story is about Feyre and Rhysand if they had both accidentally fallen through time, back to the beginning.<br/>if she had loved him all along, if she knew of the mysteries she would need to solve, if she went in, knowing what would happen to her, but was still brave enough to do it.<br/>Feyre is so oblivious to almost everything, and while it's adorable at times, it can be horribly frustrating.<br/>or maybe I just needed more Rhys content in the first book.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron/Rhysand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>226</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Forest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>if you are reading this - I'm sorry. this is probably going to be very crazy and disorganized at first.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    The forest had become a labyrinth of snow and ice. The warmth of my mate faded into nothing with every passing breath.</p>
<p><br/>    A hole ripped in my chest as I felt our bond slacken and then disappear. I called out with my mind, but my mental talons did not respond to my commands.</p>
<p><br/>    “Rhys?” I called when my magic failed. “Rhys!” I tried again.</p>
<p><br/>    Nothing.</p>
<p><br/>    Panic rose in me. Panic I hadn’t felt in years. I grasped within myself for the mating bond. For the golden chain that bonded us. I searched my soul for the bond but found only wisps. It was then that it finally sunk in what had happened. Where I was.</p>
<p><br/>    I had nightmares about these woods. The woods I had stumbled into when I was but a child in a desperate attempt to feed my family. Rhys had woken me from many of these nightmares on winter nights. I had gotten out of our bed, still asleep- having dismissed the body next to me as one of my sisters- and started pulling on boots and slinging my bow and arrows around my back. The gentle caress of my mate’s hands on my arms would bring me out of this confused haze.</p>
<p><br/>    But this was real. The lack of magic within me, the loss of the delicate, pointed ears told me enough. The deep, all consuming hunger told me more. I had forgotten what monster Hunger could become. It ate you alive.</p>
<p><br/>    I was perched in a tree, my bow already strung and an arrow knocked. I was still running through every possibility of what could have happened. Calculated where Rhys could be, if he woke to find me missing from our bed. Missing from the world. Or had he fallen through time as well, if that is indeed what I had done? I was still contemplating all of these things when I spotted them. The deer that would provide a week’s worth of food if we were smart about it.</p>
<p><br/>    And the wolf.</p>
<p><br/>    With a sinking of my heart, I knew what this was. When I was. Because that was Andras before me, waiting to die. One of the sentries Tamlin had sent, had been sending out into the human world for years, in a desperate attempt to rid himself of Amarantha. Waiting patiently for me to kill him.</p>
<p><br/>    Almost as if I wasn’t in complete control of my own body, I raised my bow. I switched the arrows, the skinny and cheap arrow I had held on to for so long for the heavy arrow made of ash wood. I knocked the new arrow and fired. As clean a blow as I had ever managed - better.</p>
<p><br/>    When I had been human, I had only held contempt in my heart for Fae. I had been raised on horror stories and histories of war. But I had experienced so much since those days I found myself returning to. The ash arrow should have repulsed me. I should have cringed away from it, feeling my magic quiver in it’s closeness. But I still remembered the sense of security it had brought me all those years ago. The feeling that compelled me to hold onto the single arrow for months after I had bought it.</p>
<p><br/>    I took the doe down in another blow. But when I approached the two carcasses, I knew what was happening. Andras had just sacrificed his life for his land, for his court. And I had skinned him alive for the coin his pelt would bring.</p>
<p><br/>    The golden eye met mine with eerie calm. I swiftly moved past the doe I had felled, already dead. I knelt by the large wolf’s side. I caressed the side of his head and neck with a kindness he deserved the first time around. I had never gotten the chance to apologize for what I had done. What I had been led to do by centuries of hate and habit.</p>
<p><br/>    “Mother hold you,” I whispered, and watched as his eye closed as if in sleep. Andras lowered his head to the snow, almost relieved. At peace. “May you pass through the gates; may you smell that land of immortal milk and honey.”</p>
<p><br/>    I did not hesitate when I drew a quick red line across his wide throat. I knew now, that it was a quicker, less painful way to go that the alternative.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Cottage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I returned to the hovel I had once lived in, the doe slung across my shoulders. It had felt like an eternity since I had seen it, and it perhaps had been. But the family that lived inside had seen me only this morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My legs shook with each step I took. I had built so much muscle from my frequent training sessions with Cassian. I had killed two Hybern generals with those skills. Had survived a war. But along with everything else I had lost in the blink of an eye, I had lost that too. It felt like the icing on the cake. I could almost laugh at the unfairness of it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But still I pushed forward, thinking of what might be there to greet me behind the door. Anything could be waiting for me there. I had fallen through time, for cauldron’s sake. Nothing was too unlikely anymore. For what might have been the hundredth time in two hours, I wondered what had become of Rhys. Had he been transported back Under the Mountain? That was no doubt where he would be at this point in time. I recoiled at the thought of my Mate in that dark and brutal place, forced to wear a cruel mask to protect those he loved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I remembered a conversation we had right when I had discovered our bond. He had told me that his dreams of me were what kept him going. That someone, somewhere had enough time and safety to paint flowers on a table. I thought of the night sky painted on my drawer in the cottage I was nearing. I had always been meant to be at his side. I had no idea if it would work, but I sent a picture through whatever scraps were left of the hidden, diluted bond. A glittering night sky above our townhouse in Velaris. The warmth at my side and the love and pure content in my heart visible with every note of color. I’d paint that for him one day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I kicked the snow from my boots and pushed through the door, noticing the carvings on the frame. They had been etched there to protect us from violent Fae. They wouldn’t do much, if I knew what was about to happen. While I had once loved Tamlin with all my heart, he was also one of the most violent Fae over the wall. Of course he wasn’t violent like Amarantha or the King were Violent, but he had the power to do whatever he wished with whomever he wished, and those capabilities led to tragic consequences in the wrong hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feyre!” Elain gasped in perfect replay of what had once happened— was happening now. I had the strange out of body feeling like I was reading a book about my own life. “Where did you get that?” she asked. Once again, not one of the three of them cared enough to ask about me. They only asked about when they would eat next. It didn’t hurt as much the second time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took the same calming breath as I once had and slung the doe off my shoulders and onto the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where do you think I got it?” My voice was still hoarse, the words burning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will it take you long to clean it?” Elain voiced in quiet anticipation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I expected, none of them offered to help. I was less frustrated as I had been once upon a time. It was strange to see my sisters like this, to see my father at all. I wanted to say something, to somehow acknowledge that I was not in the proper universe. Some unknown force had hurled me back in time and forced me to relive these moments. How long would this last? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feyre.” My father’s deep voice came from the fire. He looked just as he had that first day. “What luck you had today — in bringing us such a feast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta still snorted from beside him, her burning anger the same as it had always been. I overlooked it as I took in my father. He hadn’t done it yet, but he would someday rally ships and troops to come and fight for us, to fight for me. I had never gotten the chance to say goodbye, to thank him for what he did during his last stand. And Nesta, who had been so broken by his passing, still brushed him off. I didn’t blame her, although I knew the pain it would bring her later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can eat half the meat this week,” I said, the words coming easily. “We can dry the other half,” I went on. I would, of course, be doing all the work, but I kept the phrasing the same. “And I’ll go to the market tomorrow to see how much I can get for the hide.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When no one acknowledged that they had even heard me, I was reminded of the early days after our money had run out. When I had announced I would be going hunting and none of them had tried to stop me. My father hadn’t even bothered to stand. They were supposed to care for me, and yet I was the one to make sure they hadn’t died that winter. I remembered the way I had cried after ensnaring and killing my first rabbit. I suddenly felt unattached, like I could float away from the ground by the feeling of emptiness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wanted Rhys to wrap his arms around me. To anchor me to the earth—to him. I had been empty these days, but it hadn’t mattered because I hadn’t known the pure, unconditional love, the warmth of my Mate’s embrace. Now having known it, the withdrawal threatened to devour me whole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had the same conversations with my sisters about cloaks and boots, not really caring about the outcome. I knew what would happen once we returned from the market, and knew that anything I bought myself would be wasted anyway. I had left Andras with his skin. I couldn’t bring myself to complete the heinous task in full knowledge of what he was, or who he was. The pelt from the doe would bring enough coin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because of the lack of pelt, my father did not bother to chastise me about the risk. I didn’t know if I’d be able to take it, after he had done nothing but let us starve. I bristled after Nesta’s comment on being an ignorant peasant, but managed not to call her on it. I knew much more than I had back when this had first happened, and was no longer the peasant she believed me to be. But it still stung no matter what the truth of it was, she was my older sister. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did my best to persuade Nesta to chop wood. It was a chaotic and exhausting conversation, but I got through it. Eventually, I retreated to the room the three of us shared and discarded my outer layer. This time, I did collapse on the bed, but it was all I could do to keep the sob in my chest from rising. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, we dined on roasted venison. The night rolled along just as I remembered. We ate in silence until Nesta and Elain’s chattering disrupted it. Talk of Tomas Mandray that gave me a disorienting feeling of deja vu. I continued on with my onslaught until I caught myself saying, “Love won’t feed a hungry belly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I hadn’t loved Isaac, and Nesta had reminded me of the arrangement he and I were still supposedly carrying out. But I had loved Rhys. Dearly. I knew that I would starve rather than lose him. But when I had said those words the first time, I had truly meant them. I hadn’t known the kind of thing love did to you, how it alters your soul. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you know?” Nesta breathed, “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday— someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or care that you even existed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tried not to let the words sting as she and Elain stormed off. Just last night, I had been with the inner circle. Rhys, Mor, Cassian, Amren, Azriel, and even both my sisters had been there. It had been more than I ever could have dreamed for myself, that life that I lived. There was proof all around that her words were lies. And yet, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around why it hurt so badly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But I did now beyond a doubt that Tomas did not love Nesta, regardless of how he felt about her. She had finally told me what had been done to her, and I was tempted to march to his house and beat him senseless for it now that I had the chance. Never mind the fact that I was human and he hadn’t done it yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My father’s words still echoed around me. “We need hope as much as we need bread and meat.” He said again, his eyes clear. “We need hope or else we cannot endure. So let her keep this hope, Feyre. Let her imagine a better life. A better world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words came out of my mouth whether I still believed them or not, “there is no such thing.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so this has become a little project to work on when my brain gets too overloaded from my own novel. thank you for reading this, and I'm having a lot of fun!<br/>((one of these days, I'll figure out how to get my paragraph indentations to work))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Market</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning, still half asleep, I had experienced the opposite of my old dream-realities. I had expected to wake up next to Rhys. I was confused when his solid chest wasn’t pressed against me, his arms keeping me from escaping the bed too early. I rolled over to my other side to wrap my arms around him, but instead found only Elain. She pushed me away, desperate for any room in our crowded bed. I missed my mate for all kinds of reasons, but this selfish, materialistic part of me that had grown accustomed to comfort missed our large bed and the company it provided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did not invite my sisters to the market with me, but they tagged along anyway. The snow crunched beneath our shoes as we made our way into town. Nesta did rise early to chop wood, and I was aware she had only done it because she had known I was going to the market today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was met by the old familiar sights and smells of my old village. The vibrant life of those brave enough to endure the cold on market day, the scents wafting into the street of fresh-baked goods. Elain moaned at the smell, but my previous distaste for human food lingered. I yearned for the goodies one could find in the bakeries of Velaris. The thought distracted me so much I stumbled into my sisters as we all halted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters,” said the pale-robed young woman standing directly in our path. Nesta and Elain clicked their tongues, but I was frozen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young woman extended her arms as if in greeting, the silver bells on her wrist jingling. “Have you a moment to spare so that you might hear the word of the Blessed?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Nesta sneered, ignoring the girls hands and nudging Elain into a walk. “We don’t”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were five other acolytes with the girl, young men and women both. “It would take but a minute,” the woman said, stepping into Nesta’s path. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta straightened, “Go and spew your fanatic nonsense to some ninny. You’ll find no converts here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl shrank back, a shadow flickering in her brown eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta lifted a hand, pushing down the sleeve of her coat to show the iron bracelet there. The same one Elain wore. The acolyte gasped, eyes wide. “You see this?” Nesta hissed, taking a step forward. The acolyte retreated a step. “This is what you </span>
  <span>should</span>
  <span> be wearing. Not some silver bells to attract those faerie monsters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <span>dare</span>
  <span> you wear that vile affront to our immortal friends—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go preach in another town,” Nesta spat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two plump and pretty farmers’ wives strolled past on their way to the market, arm in arm. As they neared the acolytes, their faces twisted with identical expressions of disgust. </span>
  <span>“Faerie loving whore.”</span>
  <span> One of them hurled at the young woman. At the time, I had agreed. But now…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was High Lady of the Night Court. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The acolytes kept silent. The other villager narrowed her eyes, her upper lip curling. “Don’t you idiots understand what those monsters did to us for all those centuries? What they still do when they can get away with it? You deserve the end you’ll meet at faerie hands. Fools and whores, all of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta nodded her agreement to the women as they continued on their way. We turned back to the young woman still lingering before us, and even Elain frowned in distaste. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the young woman took in a breath, her face becoming serene, and said, “I lived in such ignorance, too, until I heard the Word of the Blessed. I grew up in a village similar to this— so bleak and grim. But not one month ago, a friend of my cousin went to the border as our offering to Prythian— and she has not been sent back. Now she dwells in the riches and comfort as a High Fae’s bride, and so might you, if you were to take a moment to—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was likely eaten,” Nesta said. “That’s why she hasn’t returned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The acolyte’s face tightened. “Our benevolent masters would never harm us. Prythian is a land of peace and plenty. Should they bless you with their attention, you would be glad to live amongst them.” The woman could not have been more wrong. At this point in time, Prythian was under the command of Amarantha. Nothing about it was peaceful or plentiful. I almost wanted to laugh at the way she spoke of being blessed by the attention of the High Fae. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta rolled her eyes. Elain was shooting glances between us and the market ahead— to the villagers now watching, too. Time to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta opened her mouth again, but I stepped between them and ran an eye along the girl’s pale blue robes, the silver jewelry on her, the utter cleanliness of her skin. Not a mark or smudge to be found. For a fleeting moment, I was reminded of Ianthe and her own pale blue robes. “You’re fighting an uphill battle.” I said to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A worthy cause.” The girl beamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I thought back to the corpses of the Children of the Blessed I had seen the Hybern commanders disassemble. The girl that had been tortured in the King’s war camp. I gave Nesta a gentle push to get her walking and said to the acolyte, “No, it’s not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll meet you here in an hour,” I said to my sister’s when we made it to the square. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take me near as long as it once had to debate my options for my single pelt. The initial event had been so strange that I could not have forgotten it, or forgotten the generous price she had paid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I approached the mercenary, the mountain of a woman sitting on the lip of our broken square fountain. The scars and weapons on her spoke enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t barter goods for my services,” she said, her voice clipped with an accent. “I only accept coin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you’ll be out of luck in this sort of place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is your business with me, girl?” the way she spoke the word, and how she held court without trying was so Amren, that I had to take a step back. And stifle a laugh. Amren was just as terrifying and menacing, just without the four extra feet and muscle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mercenary paid handsomely for the deer pelt I carried. She still questioned me about where I had gotten it, but without as much urgency. I told her nothing of the wolf. I felt my sisters sweep forward like vultures, and where it had once annoyed me, I now wanted to laugh. I turned to go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A word of advise, from one hunter to another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I lifted my brows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go far into the woods. I wouldn’t even go close to where you were yesterday. More and more, I’ve been hearing stories about those </span>
  <span>things</span>
  <span> slipping through the wall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once— long ago— the comment had chilled me to my bones. But now I knew how easy it was to slip through the cracks in the wall. I understood with a start that she could mean Tamlin’s sentries. Looking for me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other creatures have gotten through, of course, and have wreaked havoc on villages in the mortal lands. The mercenary told me of some vile creatures she had killed. But still, I was stopped by what was happening. What had been happening all this time, and I hadn’t pieced it together until it was too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So we don’t know what these attacks mean,” the mercenary went on, “other than more hires for me, and you keeping well away from the wall. Especially if the High Fae start turning up — or worse, one of the High Lords. They would made the martax seem like dogs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she had known the title I would aspire to, who my mate was, I wondered if even this warrior women would pale with fear. There were stories going around the villages of a High Fae who could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away. It was only then that I realized they had been talking about Rhys. But it wasn’t dust. It was mist. And a High Lord would be coming through the wall soon, just not the High Lord I so longed to see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nesta pulled me away from the mercenary at her first opportunity. I wasn’t sure how the conversation started— or ended for that matter, but I was left alone in the square, Nesta and Elain off to do some shopping with the coppers I had given them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, I was allowed some alone time. A moment to process all that was happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac was waiting for me. The thought of meeting him in that decrepit barn repulsed me. </span>
  <span>Not mine.</span>
  <span> My heart said, even though the mating bond deep within me was nothing but wisps. I still knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took the long way home, never hurrying my footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, after another dinner of venison, when we were all gathered around the fire for a quiet hour before bed, I watched my sisters whispering and laughing together. The two of them had spent every copper I had given them, and I was glad for it, although I did not say it out loud. My father was dozing in his chair, his cane laid across his gnarled knee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a roar that half deafened me, and my sisters screamed as snow burst into the room and an enormous, growling shape appeared in the doorway. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tamlin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had known it was coming. I had lived through the event once before, but was still shocked when my front door was ripped to shreds. I was prepared this time, and yet my stomach still dropped at the sight. At the ferocious growl that echoed in my bones. My knife made it to my hand once again.</p>
<p>I stepped in front of my sisters as the creature roared onto its hind legs and bellowed through a maw full of fangs: <em>“MURDERERS!”</em></p>
<p>But it was another word that echoed through me:</p>
<p>
  <em>Tamlin.</em>
</p>
<p>Even in the days before I had been transported back in time, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to meet Tamlin. To step foot in the spring court. Rhys had been meeting with him, patching up loose ends that still frayed after the war. From what he told me of the visits, Tamlin was worse for wear. But that didn’t matter when all I could think of was how he shredded my dignity at the High Lord’s meeting. The curses he had flung at me. The feeling of wanting to melt into the floor when he had locked me inside his house.</p>
<p>He wasn’t all bad. He wasn’t an irredeemable villain. He had saved my life from Hybern several times. He had brought my mate back to life.I wished him happiness, but that did not erase the feeling of dread that resounded deep within me. I wished him happiness, truly I did, but that didn’t mean I was ready for the sight of him in his beast form, ready to rip out my throat.</p>
<p>The wards, once again, were like cobwebs against him. My father cowered next to my sisters by the fire, but I stood there, knife in hand.</p>
<p><em>“MURDERERS!”</em> the beast roared again, hackles raised.</p>
<p>“P-please,” my father babbled from behind me, failing to find it in himself to come to my side. I knew he would make up for this later. He would see what he had done— had failed to do— but the fact stung no matter how I reasoned with it.</p>
<p>“W-w-we didn’t kill anyone,” Nesa added, choking on her sobs, arm lifted over her head, as if that tiny iron bracelet would do anything against him.</p>
<p>It wasn’t the first time I had thrown a knife at him, and it wasn’t the first time he blocked. He slashed out with a paw so incredibly fast — so fast I could barely see it with my human eyes. The knife skittered away as he snapped for my face with his teeth.</p>
<p>I leapt back. The lunge had been a warning. I knew this time that he was never intending to kill me. He needed me to break Amarantha’s curse.</p>
<p><em>“WHO KILLED HIM?”</em> The creature stalked toward us. He ground his paws into the table. It shuddered underneath him. His claws ground into the wood one by one. The sight didn’t terrify me like it once had. No, I was stronger now.</p>
<p>His green eyes bore into me as I stepped forward. “Killed who?”</p>
<p>He growled, low and vicious. “The wolf.”</p>
<p>I heard Elain’s wail raise in pitch. I pushed it away, keeping my chin up. “A wolf?”</p>
<p>“A large wolf with a gray coat,” he snarled in response.</p>
<p>“If it was mistakenly killed,” I said calmly, trying to direct the conversation, “What payment could we offer in exchange?” I knew what payment he would require. I knew where I would be led from this night.</p>
<p>The beast let out a bark that could have been a bitter laugh. He pushed off the table to pace in a small circle before the shattered door. The cold was so intense that I shivered. “The payment you must offer is the one demanded by the Treaty between our realms.”</p>
<p>Lies. They were lies and I knew it this time. But I had no other option. “For a wolf?”</p>
<p>The beast whirled on me. “Who killed the wolf?”</p>
<p>I stared into his jade eyes. I was not afraid. “I did.”</p>
<p>He blinked and glanced at my sisters, his gaze flickering back to me, taking in my thinness. “Surely you lie to save them.”</p>
<p>“We didn’t kill anything!” Elain wept. “Please… <em>please,</em> spare us!” Nesta hushed her sharply through her own sobbing, but pushed Elain further behind her.</p>
<p>Before my father could limp in my direction, I repeated: “I killed it.” I squared my shoulders as the beast studied me. “If I had known it was a faerie, I wouldn’t have touched it.”</p>
<p>“Liar,” He snarled. “You knew. You would have been more tempted to slaughter it had you known it was one of my kind.”</p>
<p>Tamlin needed that to be true. He needed a human to fall in love with him who had killed a faerie with nothing but hate in her heart. I wasn’t going to break that curse anyway. There was no possibility of declaring my love for him and meaning it with my whole heart.</p>
<p>But his words had spoken truth once upon a time. “Can you blame me?”</p>
<p>As we debated the killing of innocent faeries and the finer details of the Treaty, I detected the lies and half-truths. I had taken them all as fact, assuming faeries couldn’t lie. I had also thought iron would wound him. I faintly remembered wishing for any scrap of iron— even just a nail— that I could use against him. My one ash wood arrow still lay by the door. I could have moved it before Tamlin burst in. But I didn’t.</p>
<p>The beast spoke slowly, as if I were indeed as stupid as the swine he had compared me to, “You can either die tonight or offer your life to Prythian by living in it forever, forsaking the human realm.”</p>
<p>I had taken his words as fact. The Suriel had told me there was no way I could go home, and I had thought it had been referring to the Treaty. But it had been the curse. I debated for a moment throwing my cards on the table. The Treaty had no claim on me.</p>
<p>But then my father spoke. “Do it, Feyre,” he whispered from behind me. “Go.”</p>
<p>I had no words for him. I leveled a beseeching look his way. I didn’t know what I was asking, what I needed him to say to me. But whatever it was, I knew I would not get.</p>
<p>“I have lands,” the beast said quietly— reluctantly. “I will grant you permission to live there.”</p>
<p>“Why bother?” I whirled on him. He obviously didn’t want me to come with him, he still despised humans. Why was he even trying to break Amarantha’s curse now that there was less than a year left? But that was not the question he heard.</p>
<p>“You murdered my friend, and then said he <em>deserved</em> it, and yet you have the nerve to question my generosity?”</p>
<p>“You didn’t need to mention the loophole.”</p>
<p>The beast snarled again. “Foolish of me to forget that humans have such low opinions of us. Do you humans no longer understand mercy?” his fangs were inches from my throat. “Let me make this clear for you, girl: you can either come live in my home in Prythian— offer your life for the wolf’s in that way— or you can walk outside right now and be shredded to ribbons. Your choice.”</p>
<p>I would be lying if I said the ribbon shredding didn’t sound better than returning to the Spring Court, but then I would never even have the possibility of seeing Rhysand again.</p>
<p>My father’s hobbling steps sounded before he gripped my shoulder. “Please, good sir— Feyre is my youngest. I beseech you to spare her. She is all… she is all…” But whatever he meant to say died in his throat as Tamlin roared again. The effort he made for me was the same knife to the gut as it had been the first time.</p>
<p><em>“Silence,”</em> the creature snapped. Rage boiled up in me for the outburst. I wanted to stab my dagger in his eye once again. Some things never change, I supposed.</p>
<p>“I can get gold—” my father began. I hated the thought of him begging for money, but it was irrelevant. Tamlin had enough gold.</p>
<p>The beast sneered. “How much is your daughter’s life worth to you? Do you think it equates to a sum?”</p>
<p>My father did not answer.</p>
<p>I stepped forward, ignoring the continued cowering of my sisters. I did not debate fleeing this time. I knew what I had to do. “When do we go?”</p>
<p>I watched as the beast prowled over to my bow and quiver by the door. He found my ash arrow and promptly snapped it. “Now.”</p>
<p>I took a deep breath and conceded myself to what I had just agreed to. I would go to the Spring Court. I would bide my time, play the game, until I could find a way to get to my Mate. I would kill Amarantha myself if I had to. I would go through it all again to get to him, just as I had promised.</p>
<p>“The venison should hold you for two weeks,” I said to my father as I gathered my clothes for the bitter cold. “Start on the fresh meat, then work your way through to the jerky— you know how to make it.”</p>
<p>“Feyre—” my father breathed, but I continued as I fastened my too thin cloak.</p>
<p>“I left money on the dresser,” I said. “It will last you for a time, if you’re careful.” I knew Tamlin would restore my father’s fortune, that the three of them would do just fine without me. Better. I stuffed my hands into gloves.</p>
<p>The beast growled his warning and prowled out into the night. I made to follow him but paused to look at my sisters, still crouched by the fire, as if they wouldn’t dare move until I was gone.</p>
<p>I turned to Nesta, “Whatever you do, don’t marry Tomas Mandray. His father beats his wife, and none of his sons do anything to stop it.” Nesta’s eyes widened, but I added, “Bruises are harder to conceal than poverty.” I couldn’t tell her all that I knew of Tomas. I couldn’t tell her of Cassian and how she had rather face death than leave him alone. But I said what I could. “There is so much more in store for you. Don’t take less than what you deserve.”</p>
<p>I knew it was confusing, but her memory would be wiped soon enough. Nesta stiffened but said nothing — both of my sisters said absolutely nothing — as I turned toward the open door. A hand wrapped around my arm, tugging me to a stop.</p>
<p>Turning me around to face him, my father opened and closed his mouth. Tamlin sent a snarl through the cottage, sensing the delay. I internally rolled my eyes.</p>
<p>“Feyre,” my father said. His fingers trembled as he grasped my gloved hands, but his eyes became clearer and bolder. “You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone.” He squeezed my hands. “If you ever escape, ever convince them that you’ve paid the debt, don’t return.”</p>
<p>The words effected me differently this time.</p>
<p>“Don’t ever come back,” my father said, releasing my hands to shake me by the shoulders. “Feyre.” He stumbled over my name, his throat bobbing. “You go somewhere new— and you make a name for yourself.”</p>
<p>I turned his words over in my head. I hadn’t thought of his goodbye when the Spring Court had stopped being my home. I hadn’t thought of the name he had asked me to make for myself when people whispered <em>Cursebreaker</em> as I passed. When my people saw me as Feyre Cursebreaker, defender of the Rainbow and High Lady of the Night Court.</p>
<p>I let the sounds of the snow crunching underfoot drive out my father’s words as I followed the beast to the night-shrouded woods. The night did not frighten me like it did before. It welcomed me home. I was on my way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>just a PSA, if you want more book things from me, I digest books on my TikTok account! you can find me at this same handle (whattheheckkristen)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Spring Court</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We arrived in the spring court just as I had remembered doing once upon a time. I had not bothered the questions that had annoyed him, but Tamlin had still used his magic to sedate me for the journey. The magic still heavy in my bones, I strained to see the estate. I felt heavy and muddled. The tang of magic flowing through me felt wrong— intruding. The phantom bite of magical bonds pulled at my arms, keeping me from going for my knife.</p><p>Bastard then, bastard now.</p><p>The gates opened to reveal the Spring Court Manor sprawled across a rolling green land. Veiled in roses and ivy, it could have been taken right out of some children’s story. I thought of all the time I had spent painting this place. The rolling fields and the rose gardens. I had once seen it as my salvation, then as a prison.</p><p>Now it was a trial.</p><p>*</p><p>My white mare followed Tamlin in beast form throughout the grounds. The absence of all the workers reminded me of my human weakness. They all saw me as some fragile thing, a girl who could easily be crushed or frightened. I shifted in the saddle, rolling my wrists. The bonds Tamlin had used to restrain me were finally lifted.</p><p>The faerie bounded up the staircase and prowled into the house, the doors opening on silent hinges. He had obviously thought to keep me unconsious to keep me from running. To keep me from making it back across the wall, and to my human home. Little did he know, was that that was not the home I would run to.</p><p>My knees buckled as I hit the ground, dismounting from the horse. I was still just as hungry, and just as desperate as I remembered being.</p><p>Thoughts of Rhys threatened to destroy whatever calm demeanor I had constructed. Even if I could make it home to Velaris, Rhys wouldn’t be there. He was still trapped Under the Mountain. With <em>her</em>. I could possibly still make it to Velaris, although it would be a thousand times more difficult with only my human strength, and no magic of my own. But then what would I say to them? To Mor? They didn’t know me yet.</p><p>I would have to bide my time. Here, in Spring. I would get to Rhys, one way or the other.</p><p>When I was steady enough to walk, I left the horse at the bottom of the stairs, taking the steps one at a time. My breath tight in my chest, I passed through the open doors and into the shadows of the house.</p><p>It looked exactly as I had remembered it, before Tamlin had destroyed everything in sight. Black and white checkered marble shone at my feet, flowing to countless doors and a sweeping staircase. A long hall stretched ahead to the giant glass doors at the other end of the house, and through them I glimpsed the second, larger garden. I had once thought this house to be beautiful, had thought I had walked into a dream. Those thoughts did not return.</p><p>A set of wooden doors swung open to my left, a growl sounding through them. A command to follow. I tensed as I entered the room.</p><p>The beast padded to the over sized chair at the head of the overflowing table. My stomach growled in response to the feast laid out. I lingered by the threshold, not sure what I was waiting for. Probably for some sense of surety, for a plan to form in my head. I had no idea what I was doing, or what I was going to do later on when all that I knew was thrown up into the air.</p><p>The beast plopped into the chair, the wood groaning, and, in a flash of white light, turned into a golden-haired man.</p><p>I was not crippled by fear and shock as I had once been. But I was hit with a sharp reminder.</p><p>Tamlin’s green eyes stared back at me from behind and ornate golden mask. The mask that had been on his face for close to fifty years. But I was not supposed to know that. I was not supposed to know any of this, about the curse that held the mask to his face. But this was the high lord I had loved, the man I had sold my soul for. None of that love lingered inside me, but the memory of it hit me hard. He held no love for me now.</p><p>“You should eat something.” He said. His baldric was emptied of knives. I wasn’t oblivious to the reasons why. Anyone in this manor would deny it, but I was a prisoner here. And prisoners could not get their hands on weapons. He filled a glass of wine from an exquisitely cut crystal decanter and drank deeply. He apparently needed it for what he was about to attempt.</p><p>When I did not respond, he said again, “Sit. Eat.” He waved a broad hand for emphasis. “Unless you’d rather faint?”</p><p>I debated just giving up and sitting down at the table. Perhaps it would make things easier for him, if I just played along with his little game. But I was still an ignorant human in his eyes. “It’s not safe for humans.”</p><p>He huffed a humorless laugh. “The food is fine for you to eat, human.”</p><p>There was no tensing of my muscles or preparing to bolt this time. I had no where to go. Unless you counted Under the Mountain. Just then, Lucien burst through the doors. The sight of my friend was like a small fire in a blizzard. I was thankful for the warmth.</p><p>“Well?” he said, sketching a quick bow to Tamlin. His mask was a shock to me as well. I had gotten used to the sight of him without it.</p><p>“Well, <em>what</em>?” my captor cocked his head, the movement more animal than human.</p><p>“Is Andras dead, then?”</p><p>A nod. “I’m sorry,” Tamlin spoke.</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“An ash arrow.” I lowered my gaze, a sick feeling resonating in my gut. “The treaty’s summons led me to the mortal. I gave her safe haven.”</p><p>“A girl— a mortal girl actually killed Andras.”</p><p>Tamlin gave a low, bitter growl and pointed at me. “The treaty’s magic brought me right to her doorstep.”</p><p>Lucien whirled, fixing his eyes— both metal and mortal— on me. There was none of that warmth I had thought of in his glare. This was not the friend I had traveled with across Prythian. I withdrew a little inside myself. Even with my father and sisters, even with Tamlin, I had not felt so alone. But as my friend snarled at me, the task ahead suddenly felt insurmountable.</p><p>I yanked on what little grasp of the mating bond I had. Just for some sense of him. For a taste of home.</p><p>“You’re joking,” he said quietly. “That scrawny thing brought down <em>Andras</em> with a single ash arrow?”</p><p>The hopeless and lonely feeling subsided a bit as anger flooded through me. I remembered how much of a bastard Lucien had been when we had first met. I stifled a laugh. It might have been comic relief or the first sign of madness, I wasn’t really sure.</p><p>“She admitted to it,” the golden-haired one said tightly, tracing the rim of his goblet with a finger. A long, lethal claw slid out, scraping against the metal. I fought to keep my breathing steady. “She didn’t try to deny it.”</p><p>Lucien sat at the table, “now we’re stuck with <em>that</em>, thanks to your useless mercy, and you’ve ruined—”</p><p>I was tired of whatever game or show they were putting on. All three of us knew it was not the treaty that kept me here. I stepped forward, opening my mouth to say something, I wasn’t sure what, but I was interrupted before I got the chance.</p><p>“Did you enjoy killing my friend, human?” Lucien said, “Did you hesitate, or was the hatred in your heart riding you too hard to consider sparing him? It must have been so satisfying for a small mortal thing like you to take him down.”</p><p>“Lucien,” Tamlin spoke quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. “Behave.”</p><p>Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the table and bowed deeply to me. “My apologies, lady.” Another joke at my expense. “I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary.” He gestured to me with a flourish. “Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”</p><p>He waited for my response, but I was busy containing my laugh. If the Lucien I had seen not a month ago had said or done anything similar to this, I would have laughed my ass off at what was clearly a joke. But the reference to the stars did not run empty.</p><p>“Her name is Feyre,” Tamlin said. “Alis will take you to your room. You could use a bath and fresh clothes.”</p><p>If I wasn’t playing a part, I would have flipped him off at the tone. But a masked Alis was there at my elbow, leading me away.</p><p>Lucien’s voice echoed through the halls as I walked, “That’s the hand the cauldron thought to deal us? SHE brought Andras down? We never should have sent him out there— none of them should have been out there. It was a fools mission.” His growl was bitter. “Maybe we should just take a stand— maybe it’s time to say <em>enough</em>. Dump the girl somewhere, kill her, I don’t care— she’s nothing but a burden here. She’d sooner put a knife in your back than talk to you— or any of us.”</p><p>“No,” the other bit out. “Not until we know for certain that there is no other way will we make a move. And as for the girl, she stays. Unharmed. End of discussion. Her life in that hovel was Hell enough.”</p><p>“Then you’ve got your work cut out for you, old son,” Lucien said. “I’m sure her life will be a fine replacement for Andras’— maybe she can even train with the others on the border.”</p><p>A snarl of irritation resonated through the air.</p><p>As the halls swallowed me up, effectively cutting off their conversation, I tried to sift through what I knew about the curse. I was no longer confused with the words that Lucien had said. Andras’ mission was to find me— and to let me kill him. Tamlin would never try and rise against Amarantha. He would try and work around her curse, until the bitter end. I saw enough of the courts that had tried to know that it was a fool’s errand. Maybe I would try to act like I wasn’t going to stab them if they turned their backs to me, but Lucien was right about one thing. Tamlin had his work cut out for him.</p><p>Once in my room, I bathed and dressed. I still fought Alis against the dress, and asked for a tunic and pants. I decided that later, I would don the dresses that had Tamlin looking at me without any sharpness in his eyes. But today, I was going to hang on to whatever bits of myself I still had, before I had to let them go and become someone completely different. I was going to have to sink back into the Feyre that Tamlin wanted. The one that would wear the frilly dresses, plan the parties, and ‘pop out heirs’ as Rhys would say.</p><p>It was a shock for me as well as it was for Alis, to see my ribs clearly through my skin. I was nothing but skin and bones. The transition from the full-bodied, curvy body into this one hadn’t been unlike my transition from human into Fae. Except this time, I was not shattering glass doors and bending spoons just by picking them up. It was the opposite. I had done a fine job of ignoring it when I could, it was just another reminder of what I was now having to deal with. That helpless sense of wanting to sink through the floor returned in full swing when Alis said, “You’re hardly more than skin and bones.”</p><p>“Winter does that to poor mortals,” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking.</p><p>She huffed a laugh. “If you’re wise, you’ll keep your mouth shut and your ears open. It’ll do you more good here than a loose tongue. And keep your wits about you— even your senses will try to betray you here.”</p><p>Every word she spoke was the truth. Alis went on. “Some folk are bound to be upset about Andras. Yet if you ask me, Andras was a good sentinel, but he knew what he would face when he crossed the wall— knew he’d likely find trouble. And the others understand the terms of the Treaty, too— even if they might resent your presence here thanks to the mercy of our master. So keep your head down, and none of them will bother you. Though Lucien— he could do with someone snapping at him, if you’ve the courage for it.”</p><p>I smiled. I would be the biggest thorn in Lucien’s side. I had missed Alis and her wise warnings, including the snide remarks. But her words also brought another realization inside of me. <em>M</em><em>aster</em> she had called him. Everyone here did. Lucien immediately bowed to him. I imagined Cas bowing to Rhys, Nuala and Cerridwen referring to Rhys as <em>master</em>. Maybe I’d be a thorn to Tamlin too.</p><p>Or maybe I’d be a rose. One he cherishes for it’s beauty, but does not see the thorns until they prick him.</p><p>***</p><p>I sat through a joke of a dinner that night, listening to Tamlin and Lucien insult me in ways they didn’t think I’d pick up on. And then there was Tamlin’s piss poor attempt at flirting “your hair is… <em>clean</em>.” I was no longer afraid of them or their food. I knew that iron was useless against them and that they could, in fact, tell lies. But still I sat there, pretending to be the ignorant human they thought I was.</p><p>Insignificant.</p><p>I devoured the food. Thankful, at least, for the hunger that came so easily to this body to finally abate. “Do you know what it’s like to be hungry?” I snapped at Lucien. “Do you know what it’s like to not know where your next meal will come from?” I caught the flicker in his eyes that was the only show that he knew he was wrong. It was a sharp antonym to the first meal I had had with my mate and his inner circle. The look in Cassian’s eyes that said <em>You get it. You know what it's like</em>.</p><p>I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want to dwell on the past— the <em>future</em>— anymore. It only brought pain and a sharp stab of longing. I would get there someday.</p><p>Then there was the questioning. I knew now that they were asking because of the curse. Tamlin would have to fall in love with me, and earn my love in return. So he asked about any possible suitors I had back home. I could have laughed.</p><p>“Unless you have someone back home. Unless there’s a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.”</p><p>I searched for the words that would let me skirt by the question, “I was close to a human man back in my village.” It had been years since I had seen Isaac. But that was not something I could tell Tamlin.</p><p>He and Lucien exchanged glances, but it was Tamlin who said, “Are you in love with this man?”</p><p>“No,” I said as casually as I could. It was the truth, and it always had been.</p><p>Again, that shared look between the two males. “And do you… love anyone else?” Tamlin said through clenched teeth.</p><p>
  <em>Yes</em>
</p><p>“No.”</p><p>
  <em>Rhys.</em>
</p><p>“Is this really what you want to know about me?”</p><p>
  <em>Rhysand</em>
</p><p>“If I find you more handsome than human men, if I have someone back home?”</p><p>I listened to Tamlin’s made-up excuses as my heart fluttered in my chest. I held my ground until I was finally allowed to retreat to my room. I flew up the stairs, not needing Alis to guide me, and locked the door— pointless as it was. I slouched against it as the sobs finally erupted from my chest. I covered my face with my hands, trying to quiet the noise. I felt pathetic. But the feeling did nothing to dry my tears.</p><p>But the sun had set. I rose and made my way to the window. I threw the glass away from the frame, eager to feel the night air. I gazed up at the stars, imagining myself among them, wrapped in my mate’s arms. It did me no good to live in a dream, but it stopped my tears— quieted my sobs. I stared at the night sky for what might have been hours, thinking that Rhysand might be doing the same. Waiting for me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Suriel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>It was dark. It shouldn’t be this dark. Not here. I stared at the ceiling, hoping to catch some fleeting glimpse of the stars. I would be okay. If I could just see the stars. But they would not shine. Not here. Not now.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You can’t get enough, can you?” said the body from above me, her red hair dangling in my face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My body once again betrayed me. It killed me to do this, but it was the only way to protect them. I tried not to think of  her during these times. It only made it hurt worse, made me retreat deeper within myself. But she was all I could ever think of.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I refused to look at her. That made it worse. She solved this with a hand on my chin, forcing my eyes to look into hers.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Look at me.” She said, like my pain brought her joy. “Look at me while I fuck you, Rhysand.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her hand remained. I didn’t fight her.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I threw myself awake, forcing the images from my mind. Rhysand had told me he had seen my dreams before we mated. I had seen a couple of his. But there was no doubting what this one was. The sobs raked through my chest with a force not often seen. I grasped my sheets just for something to hold onto. I hated this. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want to go through a war again.</p>
<p>I sent all my love through whatever remained of the bond. There was no way to know if he’d get it. But he got my dreams.</p>
<p>Tamlin burst through the room, finding me clutching at my blankets, flush with tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked.</p>
<p>I couldn’t do this. Not now. “Bad dream,” I said quickly, wiping my tears.</p>
<p>Tamlin stepped further into the room. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. There was nothing but sympathy and understanding on his face. He was willing to comfort me. But it was not his comfort that I craved.</p>
<p>“Just get out,” I whimpered. “Please.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Those next few weeks felt like swimming through mud. The sense of deja vu followed me like a shadow. I tried to keep my experience and conversation the same as I remembered, excluding the small choices I made. I wore the frilly dresses I knew Tamlin preferred, bit my tongue when questioning rose to the surface. When the Puca showed itself outside my window, once again taking the form of my father, I didn’t bother chasing after it. I averted my gaze to the book in my lap, but when I looked again, there stood Rhys. He was staring up at my window, wings out, beckoning to me.</p>
<p>The book fell out of my hands. I wanted more than anything to run to him, throw myself in his arms, even for just a moment. I knew it wasn’t him, but still I had to force myself to remain in my room. Then the image of my mate flickered into another form. I saw Azriel and Cassian, all seven siphons out. I saw Amren, eyes glowing like I hadn’t seen in years. Finally there stood Mor in her fighting leathers. The sight of my friends hurt more than I was willing to admit.</p>
<p>It took several days to stop lingering on the images of my family just outside the borders of the Spring Court manor, waiting for me. Ready to fight for me.</p>
<p>I spent most of my time in the study which I had persuaded Tamlin into showing me. I read any book I could reach, pretending to struggle when anyone wandered by. I was careful. But I was also drained. I felt empty, like there was something in my chest that had been ripped out.</p>
<p>I knew the feeling. Had felt it in all its agony when Rhys had sacrificed himself while repairing the cauldron. The bond was not gone. I searched deep within myself every morning for it, when I woke to find it missing. I held onto it like a life-source.</p>
<p>My rides with Lucien were pleasant enough. I was glad for the distraction. It was fun to poke at him at any opportunity. After a while, he stopped being so bitter about it, and laughing too. I had my friend back.</p>
<p><em>“Back off.”</em> I overheard Tamlin tell him once. I stifled a laugh outside the door. The first time this conversation had passed, I had no idea what this conversation had meant the first time I heard it. Now it was all too clear.</p>
<p>“By the cauldron, Tam— there isn’t much time, and you’re just sulking and glowering. You’re not even trying to fake it anymore.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>I didn’t expressly tell Lucien that I was going to hunt the Suriel, but my prying questions were enough to let him now. Or at least I hoped they were.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, I set off into the woods to trap it in my snare, taking a cloak along with the raw chickens for it. I hoped it knew about my special circumstances. About time travel. If not, my prepared questions would be pointless. It had to know. It knew everything.</p>
<p>I perched in my tree, waiting for it to appear. And when it did, I couldn’t help the immense relief that flooded through me. I launched myself from the branch, practically falling out of the tree in what felt like excitement.</p>
<p>The Suriel had once screamed when it was first caught in my snare. The second and third times, it met with me because it wanted to. I found myself hoping that it would somehow remember me.</p>
<p>“Feyre.” It said as I approached. I couldn’t fight my smile. The first time we met it was “Human.” Then, “Cursebreaker.” And then, “High Lady.” Now I was just Feyre. I wouldn’t have it any other way.</p>
<p>I smiled in greeting. The Suriel nodded back.</p>
<p>“You did as I said.”</p>
<p>“Stay with the High Lord.” I responded. The Suriel had been right. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“And all would be righted.”</p>
<p>“Do you know what happened to me?” I asked, getting to the point. I didn’t have much time.</p>
<p>“Many things have happened to you, my old friend.”</p>
<p>I nodded again. “I mean how I came to be here. Again. How could I have fallen through time?”</p>
<p>The Suriel looked confused, as if it was thinking it through. In all the time I had known it, I had never seen it look pensive. “That is something even I do not quite understand. There are far many more older than I, that might be able to grant you the answers you speak.”</p>
<p>“But you know everything.” I contradicted, in disbelief. This couldn’t be it.</p>
<p>“I know much, but not all. And I cannot lie. This I do not know.”</p>
<p>“What do you know? I understand nothing.” I had questions, many, many questions, but one above all others.</p>
<p>“Think of time as a straight line, Feyre. It goes on, longer than you can fathom. You were born at one point, and you will die in another. You have simply been lifted off the line, and been deposited at another point in your lifespan.”</p>
<p>“What will happen if I don’t go Under the Mountain?” I asked, blatantly.</p>
<p>“You are powerful, but you are not all-willing. Things that are meant to happen, will always happen. There are things you cannot change, and your trials are one of them.”</p>
<p>At the words, something in my chest broke. I had been holding out hope, and in one sentence, it had been crushed.</p>
<p>“Your trials are part of what made you who you are. This is something that cannot be overlooked. No matter what you do, time will find a way to right itself.”</p>
<p>I nodded again, trying to fit this information into my shredded plans. I had one more question, but first—</p>
<p>“It’s good to see you again,” I said, fighting the breaking in my voice.</p>
<p>“And you as well, Feyre. I never got the chance to thank you for your last gift. For staying with me— until the end.” The memory was still a stab of pain, even though the Suriel stood in front of me. “And I never apologized for leading the priestess to you.”</p>
<p>“But you haven’t done it yet.”</p>
<p>“I know that these are things I will do. I will not try to alter them.”</p>
<p>Because no one can change the past. Or the future.</p>
<p>“You have another question.”</p>
<p>I nodded once again. “Is Rhys okay? Has he traveled as well, or is he searching for me where I do not exist?”</p>
<p>“As I told you,” The Suriel answered. “Time is a line. It has merely paused until you return. No one will notice your absence. Not even your mate.”</p>
<p>“But is he okay? He’s still under the mountain.”</p>
<p>“Your mate has—”</p>
<p>Before it could finish, the naga were upon us. I had been so wrapped up in getting my answers that I had completely forgotten about how this was supposed to end. I knew Lucien would not come— even if he was out in these woods. But Tamlin was off hunting.</p>
<p>I shot the arrow into my snare to free the Suriel, even though it knew how to free itself. It was a test I had passed once before, it was not one I would fail now. I let loose a loud shriek as I fired at the naga now chasing me. I crashed through the woods, stumbling over fallen branches and roots, cursing my human body. But the creatures were soon upon me, and I had nothing to do but bring my arm down in a whirl, stabbing with my blade at whatever I could reach. I wouldn’t last much longer, but still I fought to get away. I was pleased that I had gotten farther, done more damage to the monsters than I had the first time.</p>
<p>“You’ll bleed,” one of them panted, laughing under his breath at the knife I lifted. “We’ll bleed you nice and slow.” He wiggled his talons— perfect for deep, brutal cutting. He opened his mouth again, and a bone shattering roar sounded through the clearing.</p>
<p>Only it hadn’t come from the creature’s throat.</p>
<p>The noise hadn’t finished echoing before the naga went flying off me, crashing into a tree so hard the wood cracked. I made out the gold of his mask and hair and the long, deadly claws before Tamlin tore into the creature.</p>
<p>The naga holding me shrieked and released his grip, leaping to his feet as Tamlin’s claws shredded through his companions neck. Flesh and blood ripped away.</p>
<p>I remained on the ground, covered in blood, trying to regain my breathing.</p>
<p>Tamlin let out another roar that made the marrow of my bones go cold and revealed those lengthened canines.</p>
<p>The remaining creature darted for the woods.</p>
<p>He got only a few steps away before Tamlin tackled him, pinning him to the earth. And disemboweled the naga in one deep, long swipe.</p>
<p>When I flinched away from his claws, it wasn’t from fear. But still, I trembled, burying my head in my hands.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Attor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I did eventually ask for paint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I painted the gardens, the woods I had hunted in. I painted anything and everything. Everything but Rhys. The one thing I wanted to paint more than anything. I saw his face forever in my mind. But my hands itched to paint his face. I would never do him justice, but still I longed to paint him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did once. It hurt to look at more than I thought it would. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the painting. I wasn’t supposed to know him yet. I painted over it almost as soon as I got the chance. It felt like a crime, but I couldn’t risk it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking around at my paintings, I saw him everywhere. How the lights filtered through rose petals, the way it only shone through Illyrian wings. The precise violet of his eyes in the irises. I knew irises were more blue than the violet I had chosen. It looked like I had just mixed the colors wrong, but I was no amateur. I hadn’t done it purposefully, but the color had come out of my subconscious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I spent most of my time painting now, when I wasn’t reading in the study. I felt like I was in a haze, painting and reading, while my love was being raped and forced to live behind a mask for the past fifty years. The hopelessness grew with every passing day. I could only hope he was still getting my dreams, the visions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One night, I woke from a particularly bad nightmare I could only assume was Rhysand’s. Amarantha was there, dragging her nails across my throat, slicing me open. It could have been mine, I wasn’t quite sure. I ran my hands through sweat damp hair. As my panting eased, a different sound filled the air, creeping in from the front hall through the crack beneath the door. Shouts, and someone’s screams. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was out of my bed in a heartbeat. Every hair on my body stood upright as I flung open the door. This was a scream of suffering, and I couldn’t stand it. I reached the top of the grand staircase in time to see the front doors of the manor bang open and Tamlin rush in, a screaming faerie slung over his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This faerie had blue skin, gangly limbs, pointed ears, and long onyx hair. But even from atop the stairs, I could see the blood gushing down the faerie’s back— blood from the black stumps protruding from his shoulder blades. Blood that now soaked into Tamlin’s green tunic in deep, shining splotches. One of the knives from the baldric was missing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien rushed into the foyer just as Tamlin shouted, “The table— clear it off!” Lucien shoved the vase of flowers off the long table in the center of the hall. Shattering glass sent my feet moving, and I was halfway down the stairs before Tamlin eased the shrieking faerie face-first onto the table. The faerie wasn’t wearing a mask; there was nothing to hide the agony contorting his long, unearthly features. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scouts found him dumped just over the borderline,” Tamlin explained to Lucien, but his eyes darted to me. They flashed with warning, but I couldn’t care less. He said to Lucien, “He’s summer court.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the cauldron,” Lucien said, surveying the damage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My wings,” the faerie choked out, his glossy black eyes wide and staring at nothing, “She took my wings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I made it to the table, thinking what might have happened to inspire her to <em>rip</em></span>
  <span> out the wings of a faerie. Perhaps the Summer court rebellion had just happened. Tarquin would be receiving the power of the High Lord of Summer. Tamlin waved a hand, and conjured water and bandages. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She took my wings,” said the faerie. “She took my wings,” he repeated, clutching the edge of the table with spindly blue fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin murmured a soft, wordless sound, and picked up a rag to dunk in the water. I took up a spot across the table from Tamlin, and the breath whooshed from my chest as I beheld the damage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All I could see was Cassian’s shredded wings, as he shielded Azriel from the King of Hybern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood oozed from the black velvety stumps on the faerie’s back. The wounds were jagged— cartilage severed in what looked like uneven cuts. As if she’d sawed off his wings bit by bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She took my wings,” the faerie repeated, his voice breaking. As he trembled, shock taking over, his skin shimmered with veins of pure gold. I knew what pain and terror were flooding through him. Losing his wings was one of Rhys’ worst fears. His nightmares often consisted of his wings being taken, pinned or bolted. I knew Az and Cas shared this fear with him. My heart broke for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep still,” Tamlin ordered, wringing the rag. “You’ll bleed out faster.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-n-no,” the faerie started, and began to twist onto his back, away from Tamlin, from the pain that was surely coming when that rag touched those raw stumps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was instinct, or mercy, or desperation, perhaps to grab the faerie’s upper arms and shove him down again, pinning him down to the table as gently as I could. I looked to Lucien, but he had blanched, leaving a sickly white-green in its wake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Tamlin said. But Lucien kept gaping at the faerie’s ruined back, at the stumps, his metal eye narrowing and widening, narrowing and widening. He backed up a step. And another. And then vomited in a potted plant before sprinting from the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t blame him. I knew exactly why he reacted the way he did. And still I held the wounded faerie to the table. “Please,” I breathed. “Please hold still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She took my wings,” the faerie sobbed. “She took them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” I murmured, my fingers aching. “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin touched the rag to one of the stumps, and the faerie screamed so loudly that my senses guttered. He tried to rise but his arms buckled, and he collapsed face-first onto the table again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood gushed— so fast and bright that it took me a heartbeat to realize that a wound like this required a tourniquet— and that the faerie had lost far too much blood for it to even make a difference. It poured down his back and onto the table, where it ran to the edge and </span>
  <span>drip-drip-drip</span>
  <span>ped to the floor near my feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I found Tamlin’s eyes on me. “The wounds aren’t clotting,” he said under his breath as the faerie panted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If I had my magic. If I had been given the gift from the high lords, I would have healed him with my blood. I would have already done it in a heartbeat. But I didn’t and Tamlin didn’t have enough to make a difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faerie on the table whimpered, his panting slowing. “She took my wings,” he whispered. Death was lingering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took one of the faerie’s hands in mine. The skin there was almost leathery, and, perhaps more out of reflex than anything, his long fingers wrapped around mine, covering them completely. “She took my wings,” he said again, his shaking subsiding a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I brushed the long, damp hair from the faerie’s half-turned face, revealing a pointed nose and a mouth full of sharp teeth. His dark eyes shifted to mine, beseeching, pleading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will be alright,” I said. It wouldn’t; but there was nothing else to say. I stroked his limo hair, its texture like liquid night— a tremor ran through me. “It will be all right.” The faerie closed his eyes, and I tightened my grip on his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something wet touched my feet, and I didn’t need to look down to see the blood had pooled around me. “My wings,” the faerie whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will get them back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I knew it was the only sentence that would grant this faerie any solace as he left this world. I knew from experience I tried not to think about. Was this how Rhys would have ended if I hadn’t saved him from the Hybern soldiers that had wounded him so terribly? I had my blood to save him, but my blood would do nothing for this faerie before me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faerie struggled to open his eyes. “You swear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” I breathed. The faerie managed a slight smile and closed his eyes again. My mouth trembled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cauldron save you,” Tamlin said, “Mother hold you. Pass through the gates and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” Tamlin’s voice wavered, but he finished. “Go, and enter eternity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faerie heaved one final sigh, and his hand went limp in mine. I didn’t let go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the moments that followed, Tamlin asked me why, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I wouldn’t want to die alone,” I said, voice wobbling. “Because I’d want someone to hold my hand until the very end, and awhile after that. That’s something everyone deserves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Because you needed not to be alone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys’ words chased me all the way up the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Tamlin took me to the glenn, and the pond full of starlight. After my years with Rhys, and learning all about the Night Court and Prythian, I still had no idea what caused the water here to behave like this. I figured I might never know, since Tamlin himself was still clueless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a pivotal moment for us. This was when we were supposed to learn more about each other, to grow together. But the place in my heart had already been filled. It felt like a betrayal, but still, I forced myself to discard the dress, and wade into the pool of stars. This was something I so dearly wished I could share with Rhys. I just had to get through this, and then we would do all of those things I had been missing and wishing for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin told me about Lucien and his former lover. He spoke of the Autumn court and it’s High Lord. I told him how I learned to swim. Of my father losing his fortune, and the events that prompted me to start hunting. Once we returned to where Lucien was still sprawled on a blanket, nursing a bottle of wine, he gave me my dagger back. Or he gave me </span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span> dagger. It wasn’t mine before— but it was mine after that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the days following, Tamlin could be found near me. I could almost laugh with my ability to make him fall in love with me. I had done it three separate times now. He wrote me love poems derived from the words I had scrawled on paper and thrown into the trash. I did laugh then at the absurdity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He told me about his parents mating. I somehow continued the conversation— continued functioning when I wanted to simply melt into the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then I saw the bonfires. The fires for <em>Calanmai</em></span>
  <span>.</span>
  <span> Fire night was approaching. My anniversary with Rhys. Not just in mating, but our first meeting as well. Hope surged within me, and it gave me the strength to continue. I would see him soon. My mate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I not invited to your ceremony?” I asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. You’re not.” His fists clenched. He didn’t want me there because he knew what would happen if I were there— what he would do. And I knew it just as well, although he was still blissfully unaware of my knowledge. I didn’t fight him on it. I remained silent as we continued our walk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin tensed as we entered the gardens. The quiet and horrifying stillness alerted me to what it was that lingered there. Tamlin bared his teeth in a low snarl, “Stay hidden, and no matter what you overhear, do not come out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had just ducked behind a large hedge when I heard Tamlin and Lucien approaching. I turned at Tamlin’s low snarl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what day it is,” Tamlin said— to nothing. The glamour was still in place. I silently cursed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court,” said the voice I knew belonged to the Attor. “She has begun wondering— wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four naga wound up dead not too long ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tamlin’s not like the other fools,” Lucien snapped, his shoulders pushed back to raise himself to his full height, more warrior-like than I’d yet seen him since I’d been thrown back in time. “If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice hissed, “Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors.” The voice turned to Tamlin. “But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something had come of it. Me. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one is basically just ACOTAR, by the all-powerful Sara J Maas. not much has been changed, but it's important I guess. But Calanmai is next!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Calanmai</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Stay in your chamber. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Go.</em> That wicked voice said, tugging at me. <em>Go see.</em></p>
<p>The woods were darker and the paths more twisted than I remembered them being. My sight had been a million times better then, not to mention the ability to shape shift my eyes into ones that would allow me to see in the dark. I let the fires and the drums guide my way once again.</p>
<p>My stupid skirts and cloak billowed behind me as I half-ran to the clearing. Even the slightest possibility of seeing Rhysand again was enough to warrant Tamlin’s ire. He would be angry with me for leaving, but I knew how to handle his anger.</p>
<p>Leaves and branches snapped and crunched under my feet as I neared. I wandered around the outskirts for a moment, searching for any familiar face. Until a voice spoke in a familiar way that only brought a chill to my bones.</p>
<p>“Human woman,” the Fae spoke, a hand gripping my arm. “We’ve not seen one of you for a while.”</p>
<p>I tried to yank my arm back, but he held my elbow firm. “What do you want?” I demanded, keeping my voice steady and cold. I knew exactly what he wanted.</p>
<p>The two faeries that flanked him smiled at me, and one grabbed my other arm — just as I went for my knife. “Just some Fire Night fun,” one of them said, reaching out a pale, too-long hand to brush back a lock of my hair. I twisted my head away and tried to step out of his touch, but he held firm. My human strength was not enough, yet again. None of the faeries near the bonfire reacted — no one bothered to look.</p>
<p>There was no point in waiting or hoping for someone to save me. My luck had most likely run out. There was no guarantee Rhys would be here tonight, and I wasn’t going to depend on that, especially after what the Suriel had said.</p>
<p>I yanked my arms in earnest. Their grip tightened until it hurt, and they kept my hands well away from my knives. The three of them stepped closer, sealing me off from the others. I glanced around, looking for any ally. For Rhys. The three faeries chuckled, a low hissing noise that ran along my body. Once again, I hadn’t realized how far I stood from everyone else — how close I’d come to the forest’s edge. “Leave me alone,” I said, louder and angrier than I’d expected, given the shaking that was starting in my knees.</p>
<p>“Bold statement from a human on Calanmai,” said the one holding my left arm. The fires didn’t reflect in his eyes. “Once the Rite’s performed, we’ll have some fun, won’t we? A treat — such a treat — to find a human woman here.”</p>
<p>I bared my teeth. “Get your hands off me,” I said, loud enough for anyone to hear.</p>
<p>One of them ran a hand down my side, its bony fingers digging into my ribs, my hips. I jerked back, only to slam into the third one, who wove his long fingers through my hair and pressed close. No one looked; no one noticed.</p>
<p>“Stop it,” I said, but the words came out in a strangled gasp as they began herding me toward the line of trees, toward the darkness. I pushed and thrashed against them; they only hissed. One of them shoved me and I staggered, falling out of their grasp. The ground welled up beneath me, and I reached for my knives, but sturdy hands grasped me under the shoulders before I could draw them or hit the grass.</p>
<p>They were strong hands — warm and broad. Hands I might have known. Not at all like the prodding, bony fingers of the three faeries who went utterly still as whoever caught me gently set me upright.</p>
<p>“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Said a deep, sensual male voice. My heart soared. But I kept my eyes on the three faeries, bracing myself for flight as the male behind me stepped to my side.</p>
<p>The three lesser faeries paled, their dark eyes wide.</p>
<p>“Thank you for finding her for me,” my savior said to them, smooth and polished. “Enjoy the Rite.” There was enough of a bite beneath his last words that the faeries stiffened. Without further comment, they scuttled back to the bonfires.</p>
<p>I stepped out to face him.</p>
<p>Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.</p>
<p>My mate.</p>
<p>Rhysand.</p>
<p>A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I quickly subdued it. Rhys had done nothing different from the last time. Every word and phrase exactly the same. He might not remember me. I forcibly repressed the urge to jump into his arms, to let him hold me for as long as we could. But this Rhys might not know me.</p>
<p>A small smile traced his face, one speck of humor in his awful circumstances. No doubt he had heard my thoughts of him being the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Whether or not this was My Rhys, he had just come from Under the Mountain. From Amarantha’s bed. The very thought filled me with rage. The smile was there and gone in an instant, I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t known him so well. His mask of the High Lord was firmly in place. But he turned his face to the side, narrowing his eyes over my shoulder.</p>
<p>“I’m going to kill them.” He said, darkness lacing every syllable.</p>
<p>Without a second of hesitation, I threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and clung to him like steel. My fingers found their way to weave in his hair as I trembled with relief. He only held me to him, clutching at me. Every loving embrace we had ever shared paled in comparison to this moment. The weight on my chest finally eased, now that my mate was here with me. Really here, in this time.</p>
<p>“Feyre.” He whispered like a prayer. Almost in disbelief. A broken sound came from me then. He knew me. I tightened my grip on him.</p>
<p>After what might have been ages, and what might have been but a moment, I let go of him. I did not go far. I moved my hands to cup his jaw, looking into his face once again. I didn’t know what to say.</p>
<p>Rhys’ own hands came to cup my cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that leaked. He kissed me then, the hunger and desperation mixed with tender love and longing.</p>
<p>“What happened?” he asked softly, against my lips when he pulled away.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.” I admitted. I shook my head for emphasis, but every part of me was shaking. “I was sleeping next to you, and when I woke, I was in a tree, with a bow aiming at a wolf. Andras. I killed him.”</p>
<p>Rhys just nodded, eyes closing.</p>
<p>“What happened to you?” I asked him carefully. I was afraid of what the answer might be.</p>
<p>“I woke up Under the Mountain. She was lying next to me. I thought I was having a nightmare, but it never ended. It’s been months.” I watched intently as he took a deep breath to steady himself. “I still dreamed of you.” He said, opening his eyes. They burned deep into mine as he spoke. “Every night, I saw you. I saw your dreams. I saw Velaris. It kept me sane.”</p>
<p>He had gotten the images I had sent him. Even through our not yet solidified bond. The weak threads that might one day weave together. And I had gotten his. Images of a clear night, the stars bright and constant. And I had dreamed of him too. He was all I ever thought about when I wasn’t fighting to stay alive in the Spring court. Even with our years to heal that we had gotten in Velaris with our family, the memories of all that had happened to me here threatened to break me. I had stared at the sky every night. Longing for the day I could go home.</p>
<p>Rhys must have been going through something similar. He was still terrorized by memories of Under the Mountain. Even after years, there were still nights where I held him as he cried from the memory. I still had not heard all of it. My beautiful, strong mate had gone through that to save his people. To save Prythian from her full attention. And now he was doing it again.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, Rhys.” I said, my voice breaking.</p>
<p>“Don’t.” He said, holding me tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You have your own pain to deal with.”</p>
<p>My pain was nothing compared to his. But still, he took me by the hand and pulled me down to the ground, where he rested against a tree. I crouched down in front of him, perching in his lap. I straddled him with my legs. We were covered by the dark and thickness of the trees around us, and I took full advantage. He took my chin in his hand once again, tilting my face to his own. I couldn’t tell which one of us started it, but my lips found his. It started sweetly, a gentle reunion with the love of my life, but it soon dissolved into more. I kissed him with all the passion and worry and frustration of the past few months finally beginning to melt away. He did much the same. His hands held my hips to him, and I clutched at his shoulders and neck. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I needed to feel his breath in my lungs. I needed to hold his soul in my hands — and give my own in return.</p>
<p>I felt Rhys’ hands wrap around to my lower back, pulling me closer to him. Another hand wound up to the nape of my neck. Any closer and we would have melded into one. Maybe that’s what we needed. I let out something between a gasp and a sob at the feeling of being so near him. It was all too much, but somehow not nearly enough. Never enough of him.</p>
<p>He pulled his mouth from mine at the sound. My skin protested from the loss, but the look in his eyes was clearly worried. He knew what my incoherent sounds meant. Even when I didn’t. He didn’t have to voice his question. I answered it before he could.</p>
<p>“I missed you so much. You don’t know the stress it was to be without you. Without our bond. I thought I had somehow lost you.”</p>
<p>He nodded, a solemn look in his eye. His brow creased. He must have felt the same.</p>
<p>“Can you still feel the bond?” he asked, his voice slick with worry.</p>
<p>“Can you?”</p>
<p>His face softened. “I knew you were my mate from the moment I saw your face.” He reminded me, tracing patterns on my skin. “I can feel the bond now. It’s faint and diluted, but it’s still there. It most likely won’t snap into place until you’re Fae.”</p>
<p>“I only feel a possibility.” I admitted. “Faint threads that tangle and fizz out. I tried to send you images. Feelings. Anything to remind you that I’m still here. That I love you.”</p>
<p>The worry in Rhys’ face melted into one of adoration. He tucked my hair behind my ear, playing with the ends. He kissed me again. A gentle, sweet caress of his lips against mine in a conversation no words could convey.</p>
<p>“I love you.” He whispered against my lips.</p>
<p>“I love you,” I repeated, whispering even softer.</p>
<p>His hands resumed their track along my body. The sensation was somehow dulled thanks to my human body, nowhere near the feeling of when he touched me when we were mated. But the feelings his fingers elicited in this body was incredible in a different, all new way.</p>
<p>“I never did get the chance to touch you when you were human.” Rhys said, the arrogant swagger back in his voice. I was so happy to hear it. That being back in that dreadful place hadn’t broken this playful part of him. But he soon stopped his roaming. Sooner than I would have liked.</p>
<p>“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, all the newly returned playfulness gone. “About Tamlin?”</p>
<p>I could understand his worry. I loved Tamlin once. And if we wanted to get home, to the way things were, we’d have to play it the same. He easily guessed what that act might do to me. To live in the spring court manor again, and pretend to fall in love with the man who had treated me so horribly.</p>
<p>“No.” I answered. “I just want you to hold me.” I turned around in his arms, putting my back to his chest and resting my head on his shoulder, my face in his neck. I felt Rhys take a deep breath, as if that is what he had needed as well. We sat like that for several long moments, gently touching one another. Reacquainting ourselves to the feel of one another, after being separated for so long.</p>
<p>I was afraid that our precious time together might be cut short. I did not know how long Fire Night was supposed to last. I knew Tamlin would soon be searching for me, he would detect my scent no doubt. And later, I would need to confront him in the hall. I wasn’t sure if that was pivotal for the story of us, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. Still, I said nothing to prompt my time with my mate being cut short.</p>
<p>“You never told me,” I said softly, continuing my strokes on his forearm.</p>
<p>“Tell you what, Feyre Darling?” He spoke into my ear, sending shivers down my body. It reminded me of how he had said it had felt to have someone touch his wings.</p>
<p>“Lucien told me that all the courts have their own Fire Night.” I said. “I never got to see you in that crazy haze, all painted and worked up.” I was half-joking, teasing him. But I was also immensely curious.</p>
<p>Rhys laughed softly, the vibrations sending tremors through me. “It’s not as primitive in other courts as it is in Spring.” He explained, pulling my loose hair away from my neck. He spoke his next words through light kisses on the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “But we do have our own version.”</p>
<p>I lifted my head enough to turn my face and look at him. I raised my eyebrows.</p>
<p>“You thought it was just our anniversary that makes me hunger for you so? The reason I can’t even think when you’re around, much less breathe or function for anything productive.”</p>
<p>Despite myself, I laughed. Rhys and I went into a frenzy every year on this date. The anniversary of the day we mated. Fire Night. It was quite the coincidence. I had known the two dates lined up, but I had never thought of them like that.</p>
<p>Before I could form any words for a response, I was pulled back to Rhys, our lips met in a frenzied, desperate need. I did not protest. I leaned into the touch, responding when I could, but Rhys was determined.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said, pulling away. “I just haven’t heard your laugh in so long. It does things to me.”</p>
<p>At that I could only smile. His smile was everything to me. I knew each one of them, and only a few could really make me lose my senses like that. But when they did… I was hopeless.</p>
<p>“What do the other courts do now? For these past fifty years?” I asked.</p>
<p>“The responsibility passes to the next in line for the high lord’s power. I wanted to name Mor my successor, should I die without leaving an heir, but that would inspire too much dissent within the hewn city. Keir takes the responsibility in my absence. He doesn’t mind.”</p>
<p>Many things about that statement didn’t resonate well with me. The mention of my friend made my heart hurt. But so did Rhys’ face at the thought of dying without children. My hand fluttered to my stomach. We had decided to start trying for children a few years ago. Nothing had come of it. Yet. Fae pregnancies were rare, but also brutal. Rhys’ hand covered mine.</p>
<p>“It will happen for us one day.” Rhys assured me. “And even if it doesn’t, the night court has a wonderful high lady to look to should something happen to me.”</p>
<p>“Oh no you don’t.” I said quickly. “I’m re-striking both of our deals as soon as possible.”</p>
<p>“As you wish, High Lady.” He spoke with an air of laughter.</p>
<p>“Happy anniversary.” I spoke, not being able to think of anything else to say. I leaned back into his chest, not ready to let go of the comforting warmth he lended me. If I had leaned against Tamlin like this, my body would scream in protest. But here, now, I was perfectly content.</p>
<p>“It might not remain our anniversary.” He said, a hand playing with the bend of my knee.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“If we are forced to live in this time line, I don’t know if I could wait another year to have you again.”</p>
<p>“Or we could rectify the situation right now.” I suggested, a trouble-maker smile on my face he couldn’t see.</p>
<p>His hand continued the trek up my thigh, down the inner slope. My breath hitched, no matter how many times he had done this to me, I always responded with the same dumb-founded reactions. I felt the chuckle in his breath as he worked the hand under my skirts.</p>
<p>“They would know, wouldn’t they?” I asked. Tamlin had scented our mating bond before, in a different universe. He would detect the change in mine. So would others later. I was not in love with Tamlin, nor would I ever be again. “If we mated?”</p>
<p>I felt the nod of his head. “There’s no predicting what it might do.” I nodded, resigned. “It was hard enough to watch everything that happened to you under the mountain just knowing that I loved you. If we were mated, and I had to watch my mate be hurt like that day by day, and be powerless to stop it? I don’t know what I would do. My power is still on lock. And so much of it is woven in different minds, trying to keep Velaris safe. Not to mention the frenzy that would overtake us. It was hard enough last time.”</p>
<p>I let the information sink in. Of what I would have to do. “This time, I’ll solve the damn riddle.” I said with anger at myself. That riddle had been so blazingly obvious, looking back on it. I was still mad at myself for not thinking of the answer before it was too late.</p>
<p>“Don’t beat yourself up.” Rhys said. “But we need to think about the trials. They were too big of an event to not alter the course of time.”</p>
<p>He was right, of course, but I still did not want to have to put myself through that again. I burrowed deeper into his chest. “We’ll think about this later.” I murmured. His hand resumed it’s roaming under my skirts. Indeed, later.</p>
<p>I sucked in a harsh breath as his fingers neared the pulsing heat. He growled in pleasure at the wetness he found waiting for him there. My back was still to him. I had nothing to hold on to. He teased me, circling the bundle of nerves that was now sending jolts up my gut. That twisting heat already curling in my lower belly. I brought a hand up and behind me, holding on to his neck as the other clutched one of the thighs I was nestled between.</p>
<p>“Please.” I whispered in a broken plea.</p>
<p>“There it is.” He growled by my ear again, sending more jolts of fire into my legs. He pressed his thumb right where I needed it. A gasp left me, but Rhys muffled it with a hand clamped over my mouth.</p>
<p>“As much as I want to hear you, Feyre darling,” He said in that low baritone. “I would rather not be interrupted. So you need to stay very quiet.”</p>
<p>As if he was punctuating his sentence, he sent a finger plunging into me. Another groan threatened to escape as I squirmed under his hands, but he continued to clamp my mouth shut until my moans became rapid pants. That hand drifted down my neck as he sent another finger into me that would have had me making all sorts of sounds in different circumstances. Rhys laughed at my struggle.</p>
<p>I moved my hips with his hand. His other found it’s way to my breast, kneading and rolling it through the fabric of my dress. He continued to drive his fingers into me, with a pace I had no hope of following. He built me up and took me down with brutal accuracy. If my legs were still functioning then, I didn’t know, and I most definitely didn’t care.</p>
<p>He lifted me, without removing his hand. Allowing me to turn to face him. I was on my knees before him, but he was still under me. I pressed my forehead to his, gripping his biceps with all my strength as he worked me up again. I bit my lip, hard, to prevent those sounds from revealing us.</p>
<p>He kissed me again furiously, devouring one of those whimpers he loved so much. I squirmed around, not being able to contain the pressure and utter pleasure building up in me. He ripped his mouth from mine at the last second.</p>
<p>“You’re mine.” He declared in a rough and throaty voice that made me utterly liquid. The words shattered me, but Rhys kept moving, kissing me again, devouring me in every sense of the word. He worked me through the waves of my high, his kisses getting softer and more tender as he worked. His lips eventually left mine, marking a trail down my cheek, jaw, and down my neck. He opened his mouth and bit down on the sensitive skin there. It wasn’t enough to hurt, it probably wouldn’t have even left a bruise.</p>
<p>But it was enough to break me again, and this time neither one of us smothered my high pitched gasp. Rhys looked at me with such a face of victory that my heart warmed at the sight of it. He removed his hand from within me, drawing out yet another quick intake of breath. He raised his fingers to his mouth, tasting me. The sight robbed me of all sense.</p>
<p>“We’re at an <em>orgy,</em>” I panted when I regained my breath. “What on earth would be revealed, that wasn’t already going on just beyond those trees?”</p>
<p>Rhys gave me that lopsided conniving smile that made me lose all cohesion. I kissed him quickly, if only to remove the smile from his face so I could get an answer. But he didn’t let me go. His hand kept me there and he elongated the kiss. I eventually did manage to pull away from him.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t completely lying.” He admitted. “The rite has not begun yet. Tamlin is still hunting the stag. But he will return soon.” A new thought settled over him. “I’d better get you back.”</p>
<p>“Why?” I questioned, quickly. I wasn’t ready to end my time with him.</p>
<p>“He’ll smell you. He’ll be looking for you when he arrives in that frenzy. You’ll forgive me if I’m not in the mood to kill a high lord tonight for thinking of my mate like that.”</p>
<p>I laughed, although there was no humor in his eyes. He stood, taking me with him, but never released his grip on my arms. I wrapped mine around his middle, holding him closer to me for just another moment. He returned the sentiment.</p>
<p>“Send me more dreams, wont you?” he asked tentatively. “I’ll need them for these next upcoming weeks.”</p>
<p>It broke my heart that he knew what horrors were coming for him, and how he asked for my help. Any kind of comfort I could offer. I nodded, eager to do anything to make this easier on him. I reached inside myself for the bond-that-was-not-yet-bonded. But where I had once found threads threatening to float away, they were beginning to weave together. Stronger.</p>
<p>I sent a soothing stroke down that chord that linked us. A shudder went through him and he closed his eyes.</p>
<p>“Thank you.” He said, holding my face and gazing into my eyes once more. “That was a lot stronger than last time.” He added thoughtfully, with a sarcastic smirk. I felt like I might glow at the sight of it.</p>
<p>“I wonder why.” I said sarcastically. I had been such a fool not to notice this bond last time, and when I had noticed it, I had dismissed it as the bargain we had made. It still shocked me to look at my hands and not see the tattoos there. But now that I had met him, I could feel the bond solidifying. Our bond hadn’t hit me like lightning like it had for him. It was a gentle caress. It faded in without me noticing. Just a whisper of <em>yes, this, forever.</em> And before I had realized what had happened, I had been in love with him. The thought of being without him was repulsive. </p>
<p>Rhys extended his elbow to me, and I took it. He guided us out of the trees, speaking softly as if we were just acquaintances immersed in pleasant conversation. The timing was off, but Lucien wasn’t doing anything but waiting for the Rite to begin. He spotted me talking to Rhys as he had before, and began his fuming march over to me.</p>
<p>I managed to begin my walk away from Rhys before I was intercepted. He grabbed my elbow and yanked me away from the crowd Rhys had immersed us in.</p>
<p>“Have you lost your senses?” Lucien shouted above the drums. His face was ghostly pale. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>I didn’t spend time trying to find a valid excuse, “I- I wanted to —” I started, but Lucien cursed violently.</p>
<p>“Idiot!” he yelled at me, then glanced behind him toward where the other faeries stared. “Useless human fool.” Without further word, he slung me over his shoulders as if I were a sack of potatoes.</p>
<p>I still protested, still did not make it easy for him, even though I knew it was in vain as he sprinted for the house.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Painting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rest of fire night was a blur. Seeing Rhys had taken me out of the mindset that kept me focused on getting through this time line. When the wave of power swept through the spring court, it was not Tamlin I blushed for. I thought of our night at the cabin, when I had accepted our bond. I wondered what Rhys would have done if I hadn’t. He was High Lord. It was his duty to perform the Rite, so that magic may flow freely. I knew in my heart he wouldn’t have forced himself upon me, but I shuddered to think of what he would have had to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was true that the Spring Court’s Fire Night was more <em>vulgar</em></span>
  <span> due to the fact that it corresponds with the first day of spring— and also from Tamlin’s inability to enter the new century— Rhys would have probably just conveyed the responsibilities to Keir once again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a trial in itself to act as I had when Tamlin found me in the hall. I let him press me against the wall and bite my neck, even when I was repulsed by it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You drove me mad,” he growled. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there. When I didn’t find you,” He said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, “it made me pick another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t escape. I probably <em>could</em></span>
  <span>, I just shouldn’t. I should play the human falling in love. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to claw his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,” he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brought his lips to my ear. “I would have been gentle with you, though.” The shudder that went through me wasn’t one of desire. I felt echoes of it in the loose mating bond. I hoped Rhys was blissfully unaware of this. “I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ripped his claws free from the wall, and my knees buckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why should I want someone’s leftovers?” I said, making to push him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was still a shock when he grabbed my hands and bit my neck. It was a claiming. Even after he had just come from a cave with another, he claimed me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I cried out as his teeth clamped onto the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder. I was pushed back into the wall as his bite became more of a caress, as his tongue traced over where his teeth had been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hot pulse of anger that radiated through my body didn’t come entirely from me, but from whatever lingered of the mating bond. Rhys was that angry. I wondered at what he was doing to keep him from winnowing in and killing Tamlin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin ground his hips against mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to reciprocate. He was doing enough for the two of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jerked away, finally. “Don’t ever disobey me again,” he growled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I straightened. He grinned at me in that wild way, and my hand connected with his face. It was not a shock or in the heat of the moment. I relished the sting in my palm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me what to do,” I breathed. “And don’t bite me, like some enraged beast.”</span>
</p>
<p><em>And I am not yours to claim.</em> </p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled bitterly. The slap from my human hand most likely hurt him very little. The first time this had happened, I had wanted more of this. Of Tamlin’s mouth and teeth and tongue all over my body— between my legs. I had drowned in that need. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, I was drowning in the need to slap him again. With a knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His nostrils flared as he scented me— scented the burning, raging thought that was pounding through my senses. The echoes of what Rhys had elicited from me, combined with the fury of me needing to hit him. He thought they were both for him. The breath rushed from him in a mighty whoosh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He growled once, low and frustrated and vicious, before prowling away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did go to breakfast the next day, with my bruise high on display. The meal occurred much the same as it had before, my lines and actions coming to me much easier now that I had several months of practice under my belt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had sat up, restless, all throughout the remainder of the night, thinking of what I might do when it came time for my last night here. Tamlin would undoubtedly send me home, but I wondered if I still needed to sleep with him. If that was a pivotal moment for the story of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I showed Tamlin my painting room. Hoping he didn’t have some kind of special vision I was unaware of that allowed him to see the paintings I had painted over. The paintings of Velaris and the starry night sky. I had caved and painted Rhys a hundred times. But I was always too paranoid to let them sit for more than a day. I painted over them with scenes from the cold human woods, or the Spring Court gardens, full of thorns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had not painted the barn— hadn’t even thought to. But the one image I had let remain at night, of the night sky surrounded by the bare tops of trees, as if I was lying on my back in the snow, stargazing. He found that one interesting. I wondered if he tied it to Rhys— to the Night Court. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the only one with any brightness.” Tamlin claimed. He was right, the other’s were all still lifes, just emotionless portraits. This one, I had poured my heart into, and had let it remain untouched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to go out at night, when my sisters slept, and I could take a moment for myself. It was the only thing that ever really brought me any peace.” This was a true story, but it wasn’t why I had painted it. I wasn’t sure what Tamlin made of it, he looked pensive for a moment, but sat the painting back down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moved on to the painting telling the story of my father’s ruined leg, at the painting of the pool of starlight, and then finally to the painting of the snow-veiled woods. “That one. I want that one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words rose to the surface easily, “It’s all cold and melancholy. It doesn’t suit this place at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went up to it, the smile on his face the brightest I had seen. “I want it nonetheless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mask on his face was suddenly the only thing I could see. It shouldn’t be there. I had once yearned to take off his mask, because I had fallen in love with the faerie beneath. In that moment, I thought I might finally be getting through to him. A fragile hope of ending this early started blooming in my chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me there’s some way to help you,” I breathed. “With the masks, with whatever threat has taken so much of your power. Tell me— just tell me what I can do to help you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A human wishes to help a faerie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tease me,” I said, I was so tired of his teasing. “Please— just tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s nothing I want you to do, nothing you <em>can</em></span>
  <span> do— or anyone. It’s my burden to bear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wrong, wrong, wrong. “You don’t have to—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do. What I have to face, what I endure, Feyre… you would not survive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he was right about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’m to live here forever, in ignorance of the true scope of what’s happening? Would you rather I found someplace else to live? Where I’m not a distraction?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t <em>Calanmai </em></span>
  <span>teach you anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only that magic makes you into a brute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed, though not entirely with amusement. When I remained silent, he sighed. “No, I don’t want you to live somewhere else. I want you here, where I can look after you— where I can come home and know you’re here, painting and safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was a fool for not seeing it before. That he would go to the lengths that he did to make sure he could come home to that. To a docile wife who had no desire to do anything but paint and bear children. He didn’t want a fighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought about sending you away at first,” he went on. “Part of me still thinks I should have found some place for you to live. But maybe I was selfish. Even when you made it so clear that you were more interested in ignoring the treaty or finding a way out of it, I couldn’t bring myself to let you go— to find some place in Prythian where you’d be comfortable enough not to flee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had no idea to make of that. If he had sent me away, I wouldn’t have been able to break the curse. Maybe he just said it so I would finally stop thinking of him as my jailer. What he didn’t know, was that I hadn’t thought of him as my jailer in a long time. But regardless, there was only one place I would ever be comfortable in Prythian, and the Night Court was still seen as a place of nightmares at this point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” I asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked up the small painting of the frozen forest and examined it again. “I’ve had many lovers,” he admitted. “But they never understood. What it was like, what is </span>
  <span>is</span>
  <span> like, for me to care for my people, my lands. What scars are still there, what the bad days feel like. This reminds me of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lowered the painting, looking right at me, into me. “That I’m not alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stared at the stars a bit longer that night. Despite his words, I felt more alone than ever. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Somehow, I managed to leave my own body. I felt like I was watching myself through some dream. I would have sunk through the floor and never emerged from my bed if I could. There was a hole in my chest I couldn’t feel. I would wrap my arms around myself while soundless tears streamed down my face. If Alis noticed my red and puffy eyes, she never said anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was a good actress— I proved that when I came back to the spring court when Tamlin made a deal with the King of Hybern. It was all I could do to plaster the easy smile to my face and act like I was slowly but surely falling in love with the High Lord. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little piece of my sanity chipped away every time Tamlin would smile at me, and I would send one back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like treason to sit there beneath the willow tree and exchange a kiss for lifting the glamour on me. My heart recoiled even as I leaned forward and kept the easy contentment on my face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to be able to do <em>something</em> different. Something that would allow me a small bit of peace. But still, I carried on, biding my time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until I found a head in the garden. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bleeding male High Fae head— spiked atop a fountain statue of a great heron flapping its wings. It was still enough of a surprise that I dropped my paints and brushes on the pavement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I slowly started backing away, not sure what to do. My heart was pounding as I couldn’t tear my gaze from the still-screaming head. I backed right into Tamlin, and whirled, still in shock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s me,” he said, taking me by the arms. I tried to find comfort in it— in his presence— as I once had. But there was nothing but the relentless pounding of my heart. I could hear it in my ears, feel it in my head. My breathing quickened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The panic stopped when I heard Tamlin growl, “Night Court.” In answer to Lucien’s question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time I had heard the name of my home in months. It hit me like a blow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But I still had a part to play. “Why would they do this?” I breathed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin let go of me, coming to stand at my side as Lucien climbed the statue to retrieve the head. Had Rhys himself done this? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. He would do anything to protect his home, for his family, but he was not the only native of the Night currently under the mountain. None of this made sense anymore. If Rhys had been here, why hadn’t he come to my window? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The image of Rhys, hands covered in the blood of a dismembered head, calling up to my second story window answered that question. I wanted to see him more than I wanted air to breathe, but he would not want me to have to see him like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Night Court does what it wants,” Tamlin said. “They live by their own codes, their own corrupt morals.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re all sadistic killers,” Lucien said. If he hadn’t been my friend— and unaware of the true nature of the Night Court— I would have stabbed him for the comment. “They delight in torture of every kind,” He went on. “And would find this sort of stunt to be amusing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Hewn City, the court of nightmares might. But not the High Lord. Not me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amusing, but not a message?” I managed to say through the red haze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s a message, Lucien said as he yanked the head off. I did not cringe or look away this time. I was stronger than that now. “To get in and out of our defenses, to possibly commit the crime nearby, with the blood this fresh…” He splashed into the water below. “It’s exactly what the High Lord of the Night Court would find amusing. The bastard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tried to remember that Lucien — and everyone else — had every right to believe that. The mask of the cruel High Lord was screwed on tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My hands still shook as I bent down for the brushes and paint. Tamlin knelt next to me, his hands closed around mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still safe,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded, but I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. He wouldn’t find what he would be expecting in mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s court posturing,” he said. “The Night Court is deadly, but this was only their Lord’s idea of a joke. Attacking anyone here— attacking you— would cause more trouble than it’s worth for him. If the blight truly does harm these lands, and the Night Court enters our borders, we’ll be ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they wouldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin was called away soon after that. I couldn’t really bring myself to carry on my act in his absence. I spent a long time in the bath, submerging myself in the hot water, hoping that when I emerged I would be home. But soon my lungs were burning and when I came up for air, I was still suffocating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alis changed my into a flowing blue dress and wove a garland of pink, white, and blue wildflowers around the crown of my head. I realized with a start what today was. The summer solstice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took a deep breath to prepare myself for what tonight would bring. I would go down those stairs and be nothing but a human pretending to be Fae, falling in love with the High Lord. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least I would get to drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And I did. Nothing Lucien said could get me to stop. I drank all the wine I could get my hands on, until I felt light and airy. I finally forgot about my hollow chest and felt light in a not-unpleasant way. And I danced. I danced until my feet hurt, and then danced some more. I let go. I stopped being so worried about time and important moments and acting. I just danced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon the sun was rising, and I was sitting in the grass with Tamlin, unsure of how I got there. I was still swaying. Everything was fuzzy, and my head was pounding. Tamlin was there, closer than he had ever been. He had obviously had a great time, his hair disheveled from the dancing, and his sleeves rolled up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything went out of focus again, and when I was brought back into my body, Tamlin was upon me. I wasn’t sure if I had prompted anything, as I had done before. I wasn’t really sure how I had made it onto my back in the grass, with Tamlin’s lips and tongue exploring mine, a hand up my skirt making a steady trail up my thighs to the apex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pushed him off my body, quickly getting to my feet. I rearranged my skirts, sobering up quickly. “What are you doing?” I questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kissing you.” Tamlin said, confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t respond. I was shaking, looking for something to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. He got up and took a step closer to me. I stepped back, keeping our distance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” I said quickly. “I just—” tears sprung up behind my closed eyes. “I’m drunk. I think. My head hurts.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me take you home.” Tamlin said gently. He got close enough to me to take me by the arm, and guide me to the house. I let him, but it did not feel safe in the least. What should have been a happy and wholesome moment was ruined. I couldn’t decide if it was my fault or his. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Rhysand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day, Lucien joined us for lunch. I tried to remember my job, and play my part. Tease Lucien. Flirt with Tamlin. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the new version of our first kiss. I couldn’t remember anything other than waking up to being devoured by Tamlin. My skin felt wrong where he had touched it. I had been so intoxicated that I couldn’t even remember asking him to kiss me. Or if I had at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn,” I heard Lucien say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced at Tamlin. I was supposed to be in love with him, to cherish our closeness. But I didn’t. His kiss had only brought nightmares and made my headaches worse. Tamlin’s gaze roved my face ad if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. I quickly plastered on a mask of my own, and bit my lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath, hiding behind the mask. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” his eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the cauldron to spare him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said, and I blinked, grateful for the interruption. “But now that I have your attention <em>Tamlin</em>,” he snapped. “Not to be the bearer of truly bad tidings, but my contact at the Winter Court managed to get a letter to me.” I remembered wondering if Lucien was also spymaster. He didn’t hold a candle to Azriel. “The blight,” Lucien said tightly, softly. “It took out two dozen of their younglings. <em>two dozen</em>, all gone.” He swallowed. “It just… burned through their magic, then broke apart their minds.” That part, I knew. Daemati. “No one in the winter court could do anything— no one could stop it once it turned it’s attention toward them. Their grief is… unfathomable. My contact says other courts are being hit hard— though the Night Court, of course, manages to remain unscathed. But the blight seems to be sending its wickedness this way— farther south with every attack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had no idea what Rhys was doing to keep his court safe. What he was doing to spare all of them from her full attention. And yet he was labeled a monster and whore for it. It was undeniably a daemati that killed those younglings. Yet another attack on Rhys, to make it look like he was the one responsible. I thought of Vivianne and Kallias. Their grief. The rarity of children was so much that the loss of so many would be felt throughout the entirety of Prythian.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin’s eyes were shadowed, and he slowly shook his head— as if trying to clear the grief and shock of those deaths from him. No matter the differences between us, we could agree on this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shot to his feet so quickly that his chair flipped over. He unsheathed his claws and snarled at the open doorway, canines long and gleaming. The house, usually full of the whispering skirts and chatter of servants, had gone silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was surprised he felt it before it did. Whatever undiscovered mating bond still remained was pulled taut at the nearness. My head whipped to the doorway, straining to see. I was filled with so much hope that the emptiness in me subsided. He was here, and I had completely forgotten. I held my hand over my mouth to hide my smile, hoping I looked frightened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get Feyre to the window— by the curtains,” Tamlin growled to Lucien, not taking his eyes off the open doors. Lucien’s hand gripped my elbow, dragging me out of my chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ground shook with each step the intruder took. Night filled the room as I was yanked over to the wall. Lucien’s knuckles turned white as he gripped me. I would have protested if I could get any words out. I didn’t want to be hidden from him. Soon, I was invisible, peering over Lucien’s shoulder at Tamlin, who took a long breath and sheathed his claws and fangs, his baldric of knives appearing from thin air across his chest. Illyrian knives. But he didn’t draw any of them as he righted his chair and slouched in it, picking at his nails. As if nothing were happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was coming. I could feel it in the air. In my soul. Everyone here was frightened. But not me. I was excited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps sounded from the hall. Even, strolling, casual. Even as the walls shook with each one. No matter what control Amarantha had on the High Lord’s power, he was still the most powerful to ever walk the earth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin continued cleaning his nails, and in front of me, Lucien assumed a position of appearing to be looking out the window. The footsteps grew louder— the scuff of boots on marble tiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he appeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With steps that were too graceful, too feline, he approached the dining table and stopped a few yards from Tamlin. He was exactly as I remembered him, with his fine, rich clothing cloaked in tendrils of night. It appeared to cling to him when he moved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“High Lord.” He crooned, inclining is head slightly. Not a bow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Here. I'm here,</em> I wanted to scream. He was <em>right there</em>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin remained sitting. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his face but Tamlin’s voice was laced with the promise of violence as he said, “What do you want Rhysand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand smiled — heartbreaking in its beauty — and put a hand on his chest. “Rhysand? Come now, Tamlin. I don’t see you for forty-nine years, and you start calling me Rhysand? Only my prisoners and my enemies call me that.” His grin widened as finished, and something in his countenance turned feral and deadly, more so than I’d ever seen Tamlin look. This was a mask I knew well. I saw through it easily. I saw <em>him</em>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand turned, and I held my breath as he ran an eye over Lucien. “A fox mask. Appropriate for you, Lucien.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go to hell, Rhys,” Lucien snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always a pleasure dealing with the rabble,” Rhysand said, and faced Tamlin again. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> I yearned to be seen my him. He had to know I was here. I was desperate enough to scream, but that wouldn’t go over well with Lucien and Tamlin. <em>L</em><em>ook at me</em>. I never missed my daemati powers more than in this moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were in the middle of lunch,” Tamlin said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stimulating,” Rhysand purred.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, Rhys?” Tamlin demanded, still in his seat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to check up on you. I wanted to see how you were faring. If you got my little present.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your <em>present </em>was unnecessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But a nice reminder of the fun days, wasn’t it?” Rhysand clicked his tongue and surveyed the room. I could have sword our eyes met. “Almost half a century holed up in a country estate. I don’t know how you managed it. But,” he said, facing Tamlin again, “you’re such a stubborn bastard that this must have seemed like a paradise compared to Under the Mountain. I suppose it is. I’m surprised though: forty-nine years and no attempt to save yourself or your lands. Even now that things are getting interesting again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wasn’t unaware of what he meant. He was good. Better than I ever was. He knows exactly what to say. What to do. My heart ached at how tightly that mask must be on when he’s Under the Mountain. When he’s with her. I supposed his advanced Fae memory helped him, but it was no easier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to be done,” Conceded Tamlin, an amazing lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand approached Tamlin, each movement smooth as silk. His voice dropped into a whisper— an erotic caress of sound that brought shameless heat to my cheeks. “What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he wasn’t. Tamlin had Amarantha’s endearment, but Rhys endured the consequences of that. I couldn’t hear the rest of what he was saying, until Lucien jumped in. “What do you know about anything? You’re just Amarantha’s whore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was tempted to knee him, to reveal the glamour just to freak him out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons.” His voice became a blade when he spoke the next words, “at least I haven’t bided my time among the hedges and flowers while the world has gone to hell.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I flinched. Lucien and Tamlin were not the only ones doing that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien’s sword rose slightly. “If you think that’s all I’ve been doing, you’ll soon learn otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Little Lucien. You certainly gave them something to talk about when you switched to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien pointed his sword at Rhys. “Watch your filthy mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand laughed— a lovers laugh, low and soft and intimate. “Is that any way to speak to a High Lord?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had once been a bomb to drop. But Rhys’ power never really scared me. I marveled at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come now, Tamlin,” Rhysand said. “Shouldn’t you reprimand your lackey for speaking to me like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t enforce rank in my court,” Tamlin said. He didn’t know what not enforcing rank looked like. Not when Cassian, and Mor stole Rhys’ liquor every chance they got. Lucien still asked permission to give advice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still?” Rhysand crossed his arms. “But it’s so entertaining when they grovel. I suppose your father never bothered to show you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t the Night court,” Lucien hissed. “And you have no power here — so clear out. Amarantha’s bed is growing cold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand snickered, reminding me what a good actor he was, but then he was upon Lucien, too fast for me to follow with my human eyes, growling in his face. Lucien pressed me into the wall with his back, hard enough that I stifled a cry as I was squished against the wood. I was suddenly annoyed at the lengths these two were going to to hide me from my own mate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was slaughtering on the battlefield before you were even born,” Rhysand snarled. Then, quickly as he had come, he withdrew, casual and careless. “Besides,” He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “who do you think taught your beloved Tamlin the finer aspects of swords and females? You can’t truly believe he learned everything in his father’s little war-camps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did stifle a laugh at that. I had been with both of them. Rhys was a good teacher, but Tamlin had a lot to learn from him. It was wrong to compare, but I couldn’t help it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin rubbed his temples. “Save it for another time, Rhys. You’ll see me soon enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t pay attention to the words he was saying as he moved to the door. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not when he hadn’t seen me. My nails dug into my palms. But then Rhysand studied the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien went stick-straight, pressing me harder against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s your guest?” Rhysand asked, lifting my goblet and sniffing it before setting it down again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent them off when I sensed your arrival,” Tamlin lied coolly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand now faced Tamlin, and his perfect face was void of emotion before his brows rose. A flicker of excitement flashed across his features. I could see through his mask well enough to know it was not hope that Tamlin would break the curse— but hope that he would see me. I could feel that same hope rise in my chest. He whipped his head to Lucien and I had to remember to be afraid of him as his face contorted with rage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You <em>dare</em> glamour <em>me</em>?” he growled, his violet eyes burning as they bore into my own. Lucien pressed me harder into the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin’s chair groaned as it was shoved back. He rose, claws at the ready, deadlier than any of the knives strapped to him, but I only had eyes for my mate as the glamour vanished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand’s face was once filled with fury as we met like this. But now there was only a smile that might look like an evil game, but to me, was relief. I hoped he could see through my terrified act as I could with his. “I remember you,” He purred, it wasn’t Calanmai he was remembering, I was sure. “It seems like you ignored my warning to stay out of trouble.” He turned to Tamlin. “Who, pray tell, is your guest?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ill-timed urge to laugh rose in me. At the thought that Rhys would have to ask who I was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My betrothed,” Lucien answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? Here I was, thinking you still mourned your commoner lover after all these centuries,” Rhysand said, stalking toward me. The sunlight didn’t gleam on the metallic threads of his tunic, as if it balked from the darkness pulsing from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien spat at Rhysand’s feet and shoved his sword between us. It was such a stupid move to protect me from him. But he didn’t know that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand’s venom-coated smile grew. “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The color leeched from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. Tamlin interjected, “Put your sword down, Lucien.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand ran an eye over me. “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” I knew they were just words. A mask. But still, my cheeks heated. But then I felt his night-kissed tendrils caress my mind. My eyes locked on his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I'm sorry,</em> he whispered into my mind. I shuddered at the feeling. I dropped my eyes to the floor, the heat receding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien was trembling— with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell. “The Lady of the Autumn court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet from your father.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d be grieved not because Lucien was her youngest, but because he was the only of her children fathered by the male she loved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave, Rhys,” Tamlin commanded, standing a few feet behind the High Lord of the Night Court. And yet he didn’t make a move to attack, despite the claws, despite Rhysand still approaching me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand brushed Lucien aside as if he were a curtain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was nothing between us now, and I had to remember to be afraid of him. It would be immensely confusing to Tamlin and Lucien if I threw myself at this High Lord even they feared, and wrapped my legs around him. Even though I wanted to. But I remained where I was, as did Tamlin and Lucien as Rhysand, with horrific gentleness, pried the knife from my hands and sent it scattering across the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t do you any good, anyway,” Rhysand said to me, keeping to the script. “If you were wise, you would be screaming and running from this place, from these people. It’s a wonder you’re still here, actually.” I tried for my best attempt at confusion through my fake terror. “Oh, she doesn’t know, does she?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have seconds, Rhys,” Tamlin warned. “Seconds to get out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I were you, I wouldn’t speak to me like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys’ claws crawled into my mind. I was human and had no shield to keep him out, even if I wanted to. But this was supposed to hurt. It had the first time. Rhys had wanted to scare me. To make sure I would go back home to the human side of the wall, so that I might be safe from Amarantha. I tensed my muscles, not needing any prompting from Rhys.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let her go,” Tamlin said, bristling, but didn’t advance forward. Why would he? He didn’t protect me from Amarantha, so why would he feel the need to step in with Rhys? <em>“Enough.”</em> He said. Words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d forgotten that human minds are as easy to shatter as eggshells,” Rhysand said, and ran a finger along the base of my throat. I shuddered at the touch I so longed for. I wanted more. “Look at how delightful she is — look how she’s trying not to cry out in terror. It would be quick, I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I love you,</em> he said in my mind. <em>I'm so sorry.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Don't,</em> I thought, hoping he would hear. <em>I see you.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She has the most delicious thoughts about you, Tamlin,” He said. He continued naming thoughts from years ago, but the thoughts he pulled from my mind were thoughts of him. My desperate longing and hollowness without him. My dreams of him, both the terrifying ones he didn’t mean to send me, and the ones that left me feeling molten and filled with ache. He laughed, still inside my mind. I was not ashamed of those, as I once had been of my thoughts about Tamlin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let. Her. Go.” Tamlin’s face was twisted with feral rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it’s any consolation,” Rhysand confided to him, “she would have been the one for you— and you might have gotten away with it. A bit late, though. She’s more stubborn than you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned his gaze back to me, and did not remove his talons from my mind. I almost didn’t want him to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiss me,” Rhysand commanded. I didn’t know if this was some kind of show for Tamlin, or just an excuse, but I still leaned forward and brushed my lips against his, as if in a daze. Rhysand’s eyes never left Tamlin’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin’s claws gleamed at his sides, and he growled at the show. I didn’t really care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys’ face grew with a wicked grin, meeting my eyes. His violet eyes sparkled, “Kiss me like you mean it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t have to be told twice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I rolled up onto my toes and kissed him. A proper kiss, one that left me breathless and desperate. I brought my hands to his hair and let my tongue wander. Rhys’ hands came to my waist, even as Tamlin began roaring and Lucien had to hold him back. The world ceased to exist outside of this. I pushed my body against his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I love you,</em> I thought for the tendrils still holding my mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wished to communicate so much with this kiss. How I wished Rhys didn’t have to hold himself back. I pushed my hips flush with his, and didn’t have to be held on the ground as Tamlin had made me last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys let go of me in an instant after the thought. Undiluted rage like I’d never seen spread on his face. He turned to Tamlin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>What happened,</em> he spoke into my mind, barely contained. <em>Did he hurt you?</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I don't know</em>, I admitted. <em>I was out of it. I don't remember much.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A growl resounded from Rhysand’s chest. Tamlin’s own rage morphed into confusion at it. Rhys controlled his anger, and reinforced his mask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I decided this was a good time for Rhysand’s claws to retract, and fell to the floor, curling in over my knees. Trying my best to look relieved and terrified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amarantha will enjoy breaking her,” Rhysand observed to Tamlin. I could tell his rage was barely contained, but I couldn’t understand why. “Almost as much as she’ll enjoy watching <em>you</em> as she shatters her bit by bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin was frozen, his arms — his claws — hanging limply at his side. “Please.” Was all he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please <em>what</em>?” Rhysand said, all gentleness gone. Violence laced every syllable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tell Amarantha about her,” Tamlin said, his voice strained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why not? As her <em>whore</em>,” he said with a glance tossed in Lucien’s direction, “I should tell her everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Tamlin said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand pointed at the ground, and his smile became vicious. “Beg, and I’ll consider not telling Amarantha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin dropped to his knees and bowed his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lower.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin pressed his forehead to the floor, his hands sliding along the floor towards Rhysand’s boots. Rhys bent down and helped me to my feet. I stood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand pointed at Lucien, “You too, fox-boy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucien’s face was dark, but he lowered himself to his knees, then touched his head to the ground. The image did something to me. The sight of standing next to my mate, Tamlin and Lucien bowing to us. I gave him a secret smile only he could see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to tell Amarantha?” Tamlin said, keeping his face on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps I’ll tell her, perhaps I won’t.” Rhys said, as if he weren’t forcing a High Lord of Prythian to grovel. In a flash of motion too fast to detect, Tamlin was on his feet, fangs dangerously close to Rhysand’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None of that,” Rhysand said, clicking his tongue and lightly shoving Tamlin away with a single hand. “Not with a lady present.” His eyes shifted to my face. “What’s your name, love?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sense of dread filled me. I had spouted the first name that came to mind last time. If I had given him my real name, my family name. Amarantha would have sent her followers to kill them along with me. If I had given mine, I would have been tortured and killed without even been given the chance at the trials. But Clare and her family had died. They were innocent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>It's okay</em>, Rhysand said. <em>It's tragic, but this is how the story goes.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It doesn't have to.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I will not risk you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears welled in my eyes and I nodded shallowly. I had so little time to decide. I had forgotten all about this. Clare’s tragedy will follow me for the rest of my life, but now I have a chance to avoid it altogether. But the Suriel had told me that big events like these will happen no matter what I do. If the Beddor’s are not killed by Amarantha, time will right itself. They will die no matter what I do. It was hopeless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>They will feel no pain, </em>Rhysand reminded me. <em>I will make sure of it.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tears streaked down my cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clare Beddor.” I blurted through the lump in my throat. I hoped the others in the room would misinterpret my hesitation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand turned back to Tamlin, unfazed by the High Lord’s proximity. “Well this was entertaining. The most fun I’ve had in ages, actually. I’m looking forward to seeing you three Under the Mountain. I’ll give Amarantha your regards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I'll see you soon,</em> he spoke into my mind once again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>I miss you,</em> I thought for him, pain lacing even my inner voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned and pressed a light kiss to my cheek. Then he vanished into nothing, leaving us alone in horrible, trembling silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This event had once been traumatic for Rhys, so much that he vomited right outside the building. I hoped he was okay now. I certainly wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The small dose of him made my withdrawal worse. I just had to be strong enough to find him again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Leaving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lay in bed that night, thinking about all that was about to come crashing down upon me. Rhys had seemed fine and whole, but he was always good at hiding his pain. It had felt like a weight had been lifted from me, like I had finally surfaced from the water and could breathe again. I had gotten to see him in the flesh— had gotten to kiss him. I bit down on my smile at the thought… that Rhys would conjure that small change that allowed me so much more than anyone looking in could see.</p>
<p>But a new weight now pressed on me. Clare and her family were surely set to die. The Suriel had told me nothing I could do would rewrite time.</p>
<p>I did my best not to think of going back Under the Mountain. There was no foreseeable way to avoid it and the trials that followed.</p>
<p>I had almost forgotten all about what was to happen next from being so caught up in my worries, but remembered with a start when the door creaked.</p>
<p>I jerked upright as Tamlin entered my room. He shut the door behind him and didn’t stop his slow and heavy steps until he was seated on the edge of my mattress.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was hoarse and empty.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” I breathed, my hands clutching my sheets. I could still feel Rhys’ touch on my lips and the phantom claws of his power caressing my mind. he didn't know that the interaction with Rhys had brought me such joy. He was afraid I would break from it. </p>
<p>“It’s not fine,” he growled, and grabbed one of my hands, wrenching my fingers from the sheets. “It’s…” he hung his head, sighing deeply as his hand tightened on mine. “Feyre… I wish…” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “I’m sending you home, Feyre.”</p>
<p>The force with which he grabbed my hand, holding it with an iron grip brought forth a fear in me I hadn’t previously known. Never before had I been scared he might force himself upon me. But that was before I had been so drunk that I couldn’t remember how I had gotten onto my back in the grass, Tamlin happy to take more than what had been offered. A stone dropped in my gut, and I soon felt like I would vomit rather than find any safety in his closeness.</p>
<p>I had debated many times the issue of sleeping with Tamlin before leaving. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was all that important. Even so, if it was, Tamlin might end up taking me anyway— if that was what the timeline demanded. Was that what had caused the difference during the solstice? I didn’t believe Tamlin was the kind of male to do such a thing, even when I had nothing but contempt for him. It was a risk I was going to have to take.</p>
<p>I had decided.</p>
<p>I had worried and obsessed over our story. The story of us. Of me. Of Tamlin. But it wasn’t the two of us who I should have contemplated. This was the story of me and Rhysand. from the beginning it was always Rhys. It always was and always will be. And Tamlin’s cock didn’t need to have any part in that.</p>
<p>Tamlin might be in love with a false version of me, but he knew me well enough to know I would fight this. At least at first. “What about the terms of the Treaty—” I started.</p>
<p>“I have taken on your life debt. Should someone come inquiring after the broken laws, I’ll take responsibility for Andras’s death.”</p>
<p>“But you once said there was no other loophole. The Suriel said there was no—”</p>
<p>A snarl. “If they have a problem with it, they can tell me.”</p>
<p>I was silent for a moment, not sure how far to let this go. “Did I do something wrong—”</p>
<p>He lifted my hand to press it to his lower cheek. “You did nothing wrong.” He turned his face to kiss my palm. “You were perfect,” he murmured onto my skin, then lowered my hand.</p>
<p>This time when I yanked my hand back, it was with far less anger. Resignation. I nodded my head and swallowed— as if choking back tears. “Okay.”</p>
<p>Tamlin began nodding with me, refusing to meet my eyes. “You should sleep,” he spoke. “You have a long journey tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Tomorrow?”</p>
<p>His mouth was a hard line. I could see the pain in his eyes. “At dawn.”</p>
<p>I said nothing. There was nothing I could say to make any part of this better. I had no confessions of love, and no parts of my soul or body to give.</p>
<p>Tamlin stood from my bed and brought his eyes back to mine. Before I could so much as make a sound in protest, his lips were on mine in a hard, crushing kiss. His hands held my face as he claimed me. He did not linger longer than a moment, and before I could even react, he was gone.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>I waited for excitement to kick in at the prospect of my leaving to finally hit me, but it never did. Once I went back, there was no reason to stay. I would only have one place left to go before I could finally return home. Indeed, I could not bring myself to be excited or sad— either way, I did not want to remain in the Spring Court any longer than I needed to.</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t you be giving me a weepy farewell?” Alis said when she finished helping me dress in the lacy, outlandish style of the wealthy mortals.</p>
<p>I tugged at the useless and flimsy gloves. “I don’t like goodbyes. If I could, I’d just walk out and not say anything.”</p>
<p>Alis gave me a long look. “I don’t like them either.”</p>
<p>I went to the door, but stopped before I could get too far. Alis was too good a friend to leave it like that. “I hope you get to be with your nephews again soon.”</p>
<p>It was no different than what I had once said, but somehow it was.</p>
<p>“Make the most of your freedom” was all she said.</p>
<p>Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. “Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm.”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure the human realm would know what to do with you,” I said. I thought about what might happen if he knew he had a human mate beyond the wall who also wanted nothing to do with him. I’d better keep that to myself.</p>
<p>Lucien’s smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tamlin was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. “I thought you were smarter than this.”</p>
<p>I was, but also I wasn’t.</p>
<p>“Good-bye to you, too.” It wouldn’t be long until I’d see him again Under the Mountain. No matter how smart I was, I could not break the curse from here.</p>
<p>Lucien shook his head, his scar stark in the bright sun, and stalked toward Tamlin, despite the High Lord’s warning growl. “You’re not even going to give her a few more days? Just a few— before you send her back to that human cesspit?” Lucien demanded.</p>
<p>“This isn’t up for debate,” Tamlin snapped, pointing at the house. “I’ll see you at lunch.”</p>
<p>Lucien stared him down for a moment, spat on the ground, and stormed up the stairs. I watched him go. I wasn’t about to agree with him when I knew Amarantha and her cronies would be here soon to destroy the manor and take Tamlin and Lucien with them. I had my own plans, and I did not intend to allow myself to be tortured.</p>
<p>I allowed Tamlin to gently guide me to the carriage. I had once loathed this moment and thought of what an injustice it was that I could not remain at his side. But now, this carriage was the next chapter that would lead me to my doom Under the Mountain and yet I found that I was unafraid. I knew the whole story, the bits and pieces Tamlin had hidden from me. I was ready.</p>
<p>Or as ready as I could be.</p>
<p>Tamlin lifted my chin with a finger. “I will see you again.” He kissed me, and pulled away quickly just as he had last night.</p>
<p>As ready or brave as I was, I couldn’t help the tremor in my hands or the shaking of my legs. I tried to take deep breaths to steady myself before I dissolved into a panic attack. I wanted to leave, yes. But I still dreaded where I was headed.</p>
<p>I turned before Tamlin could spot my reaction, but he was there to help me into the opulent carriage. He watched me take my seat through the door, his face a mask of calm I knew he did not feel. “Ready?”</p>
<p>I nodded.</p>
<p>He shut the door, sealing me inside. He leaned through the open window to caress my cheek. The footman sounded a whip.</p>
<p>Tamlin’s fingers brushed my mouth. The carriage jolted as the six white horses started into a walk. I averted my eyes, focusing on my hands in my lap.</p>
<p>Tamlin smiled at me one last time. “I love you,” he said, and stepped away.</p>
<p>I said nothing.</p>
<p>Not because the words got stuck in my throat or because I was afraid of what it would mean. I didn’t say it back because it would have been a lie. There was no reason to give him or anyone else any kind of hope, especially if the empty words would not do a thing to break the curse that kept their magic under lock and key and masks on their faces.</p>
<p>So I said nothing as the carriage moved. And I did not look back as we passed through the manor gates and into the forest beyond.</p>
<p>Almost as soon as the carriage entered the woods, the sparkle of magic stuffed itself up my nose and I welcomed the deep sleep it dragged me under. It was the last good sleep I’d have for a long while.</p>
<p>When I woke, I settled into my fate. I knew what I would have to do, and I would waste no more time than necessary.</p>
<p>I endured the conversations with my sisters, eager to get on with the next stage in my plans. I had no desire to sit through a ball that Elain and Father so wanted to throw, and it wouldn’t matter anyway in about three hours. The detail about a fake Aunt Ripleigh was a wave of fleeting deja-vu. I excused myself as best I could without seeming rude or overly-dismissive.</p>
<p>All I could hear echoing through my head was the Suriel’s words. <em>Stay with the High Lord. </em></p>
<p>I would have to get to him first. But once I did, I would never let him go.</p>
<p>I bolted up the stairs to one of the rooms Elain had suggested I stay in and promptly stripped off my outrageous clothes. I located a reasonable tunic and pants that would be suitable for what lies ahead.</p>
<p>I was shoving apples and dried cheeses into my bag in the kitchen when Nesta stormed in. I stopped my packing to look at her.</p>
<p>“What is wrong with you?” She demanded of me.</p>
<p>“Nothing.” I responded, resuming my search for food I could take for my trip.</p>
<p>“This is not nothing.” She continued her interrogation. “You’ve been back for an hour and already you’re leaving again.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t understand.”</p>
<p>“Try me.”</p>
<p>I stopped to look at her once more. There is so much I could tell her, and even more I wouldn’t dare. Until she pulled out a broken piece of wood with chipped paint on one side. Discolored foxglove. The bit of our old table thudded on the floor by my feet. I could see the brutal claw marks that shredded through the image. Nesta’s angry face spoke a thousand words.</p>
<p>And I had forgotten. I had forgotten all about how Nesta had come looking for me, how she fought the glamour on her mind that told her I was safely away with a forgotten Great Aunt.</p>
<p>“Your beast’s little trick didn’t work on me,” she said with quiet steel, knocking me over with the force of it. “Apparently, an iron will is all it takes to keep a glamour from digging in. So I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into <em>nothing</em>. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt’s house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I’d gone mad— but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of table, and then the claw marks, and know it wasn’t in my head.”</p>
<p>I didn’t need her to say the rest. I knew what she had done, but still I asked. “You went after me,” I said. “You went after me— to Prythian.”</p>
<p>“I got to the wall. I couldn’t find a way through.”</p>
<p>Nesta and I had never fit together like puzzle pieces the way she had with Elain. Even after everything had happened, she still burned with so much anger and didn’t know where to direct it. She had let me go into the woods and risk my life to feed our family and refused to protect me or offer any kind of comfort. But she trekked two days to the wall and two days back through the winter woods.</p>
<p>I rushed forward and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.</p>
<p>Physical affection was not something I easily gave away, much less to my sisters who would spend money faster than I could get it. But I hugged my big sister and went thoroughly to pieces in her arms.</p>
<p>“Tell me everything,” She whispered into my hair.</p>
<p>So I did.</p>
<p>Not everything, but enough. I told her of my Mate, and how he was stuck with an evil woman who has taken a hold of his magic. I told her about Tamlin and where I’ve been. The bare minimum of details, but enough for me to feel like I wasn’t going at this all alone. It felt like finally falling asleep after a long day to finally speak the words. And I told her of what I had to do.</p>
<p>“I’m coming with you.”</p>
<p>“No. You’re not,” I responded fiercely.</p>
<p>“You can’t go alone. One human couldn’t possibly take on that many Fae.”</p>
<p>“I can. And I will. I have to.”</p>
<p>Nesta would not be easily persuaded, but she eventually relented. “You love him?” she asked quietly.</p>
<p>“I do.” I said, fighting the breaking in my voice. “He’s everything to me.”</p>
<p>She looked at me for a moment, taking me all in until she decided. “Father once told you to never come back,” she said, hands on my shoulders and looking directly into me, “and I’m telling you now. We can take care of ourselves.”</p>
<p>I sheathed the knives at my side and slung a quiver of arrows across my back before scooping up my bow. I had everything I needed.</p>
<p>“I will see you again.”</p>
<p>She just nodded, not quite believing, but it was all I had to offer her.</p>
<p>I hugged a very confused Elain on my way out, my father nowhere in sight. But I only had one last chance to see him.</p>
<p>I burst through his office, usually covered with jewels and other items of worth, but now held only maps and charts. Ship logs. He was preparing. I gripped him to me as tight as I could. “Thank you,” I whispered to him before I ran out.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I rode for what felt like eternity, pushing my mare to her limits. I rested only for her sake, and cherished whatever sleep would deign to fall over me — no matter how little or restless it was. Two days Northward, without a word spoken or thought wasted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took half as long as it once had to find the hole in the wall. It was still marked by the mossy stones, a faint whorl carved into them. Magic stung my nostrils as I steered my horse through the gate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then we were through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A new burst of determination hit me once I was back in Prythian. The colors were bolder, the very air sharper. I was essentially home, but felt none of the peace it should have brought. Not a bird sang, and no monsters lurked behind every tree and bush waiting to pounce. I knew it meant <em>she</em> had come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t bother with searching the broken Spring Court Manor, and hardly noticed the building as I passed. I wished I had gotten to speak with Alis, but the meeting would have only slowed both of us down and she had no new information to give me. The timing was off anyway. I was weeks early — weeks I had once spent depressed in the human realm painting with Nesta and gardening with Elain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I thought of Alis’ warnings. I was still unused to my human body, regardless of the months I’d had to regain my balance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not drink the wine. Don't make any deals. Do not trust a soul.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I would be breaking every one of her rules. They were all overshadowed by another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay with the High Lord.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had worked before, I could only hope it would help me once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All dark and miserable roads lead Under the Mountain.” I whispered to no one as I neared the cave that would bring me there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I dismounted my horse and sent her away with a pat on her thick neck. She headed for home, and I sincerely hoped she would make it there. Someone deserved to. I turned back to the dark mouth of the ancient and once-sacred passage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I gathered all of my stubbornness and hotheaded tendencies. I <em>would</em> free him. Free all of them. This was my father’s last request— to make a name for myself. I refused to be afraid. I had done this once before and I could do it again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I walked into the cave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The passage was no different than how I remembered it. The only sounds my shallow breathing and the crunch of my boots. Just to keep my mind off the task ahead, I thought of Rhys’ tattoos. A completely pointless and out of place thing to think about here and now, but it kept my breathing steady. I’d memorized the swirls on his shoulders long ago, and was grateful for it now. I thought of how they moved and rippled as his muscles worked. I thought of the mountains on his knees and the patterns up his forearms that symbolized his promise to me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The images were enough to keep me calm when I was intercepted by the Attor, it’s face just as terrifying as it had been every other time I had seen it. “Hello,” it hissed. “What’s something like you doing here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t answer. I let it pull me along to Amarantha’s throne room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Attor tugged me forward with that slithering gait, it’s clawed feet making leisurely scratches on the cave floor. <em>Rhys. Mor. Cass. Az. Amren. My Sisters.</em> I had to get through this for them. I held in my nausea and urge to scream as I was dragged through the dark hall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leering faces watched me go by, none of them concerned or disturbed that I was in the claws of the Attor. Few High Fae among them. We kept moving through the passages that were somehow both sinister and beautiful. I hated every part of it. Especially when we arrived in the throne room. Here were the High Fae.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An assembled crowd took up most of the space, some of them dancing to to strange off-kilter music. I thought I spied some glittering masks among the crowd as I quickly searched their faces, but everything was a blur of sharp teeth and fine clothing. The Attor hurled me forward, and the world spun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cold marble floor was unyielding as I slammed into it, my bones groaning and barking. I pushed myself up, sparks dancing in my eyes, but stayed on the ground, kept low, as I beheld the dais before me. A few steps led onto the platform. I lifted my head higher. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, lounging on a black throne, was the star of my nightmares. Resplendent in her wine-red hair and blood-red lips sat Amarantha, lounging in ease. I could see the laughter in her eyes at what was brought before her. I suppressed my shudder and tried to steady my trembling knees. I was stronger now. I could do this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamlin at her side revealed nothing. Not that I had expected him to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stories Rhys had once told me of the horrors she inflicted replayed in my mind on a continuous loop like a mockery. It wasn’t just me she had tortured and killed. She had done much worse to others— my mate included. I couldn’t let it go on any longer. I tried to stand a bit straighter in defiance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second I did, a pair of violet eyes met mine. Rhys’ mental talons were there, holding my mind like I wish he would do with his arms. It was still a comfort. More than I could hope for. I focused on that feeling rather than my rising fear as Amarantha took me in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this?” She said, he voice lilting despite the adder’s smile she gave me. She still wore Jurian’s finger bone around her neck and his eye on her finger. It disturbed me now just as it had the first time I had seen it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a human thing I found downstairs,” The Attor hissed, it’s forked tongue darting out between its teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I found solace in the fact that I was not uncovering some long-hidden mystery. “Tell Her Majesty why you were sneaking around the catacombs— why you came from the old cave that leads to the spring court.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I needed no time to decide. I knew what I was doing. “I came to claim the one I love,” I said with as loud a voice as I could muster. Rhys’ claws tightened their grip, the feeling like a life-raft in the middle of the sea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I spared Tamlin no glance, but Amarantha didn’t need clarification. She tipped her head back and laughed — a raven’s caw. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The High Queen turned to Tamlin — a complete and wrong assumption — and her lips pulled back in a wicked smile. “You certainly were busy all those years. Developed a taste for human beasts, did you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From all the way across the chamber, I could practically feel Rhys stiffen. Tamlin said nothing, his face impassive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha brought Clare’s body to my attention. The sight of it made my knees weak.her skin burned in places, and missing in others. Her fingers were bent at odd angles, and garish red lines crisscrossed her naked body. I could hardly hear past the roar in my ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had felt no pain. I knew that. But I still shook at the prospect of being in her place. That still should have been me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t process Rhys’ response to that thought. The guilt ran through him like waves, but still he was willing to do whatever was necessary to protect me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tried to take in the words Tamlin and Amarantha exchanged about me, about Clare, about their deal, but I could not focus on it. I let myself have one more glance at my mate before the queen turned back to me. “You came to claim Tamlin?” Amarantha said— it wasn’t a question and I didn’t answer. “Well, as it happens, I’m bored to tears of his sullen silence. I was worried when he didn’t flinch while I played with darling Clare, but when he didn’t even show those lovely claws…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’ll make a deal with you, human,” she said. “You complete three tasks of my choosing— three tasks to prove how deep that human sense of loyalty and love runs, and Tamlin is yours. Just three little challenges to prove your dedication, to prove to me, to darling Jurian, that your kind can indeed love true, and you can have your High Lord.” She turned to Tamlin. “Consider it a favor, High Lord— these human dogs can make our kind so lust-blind that we lose all common sense. Better for you to see her true nature now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>“I want their curses broken, too,” I said, not willing to let my voice waver. I knew first-hand how specific magic could be. I didn’t want just Tamlin free, I wanted them all to be free of her — of this place. “I complete all three of your tasks, the curse is broken — </span>
    <span>
      <em>instantaneously</em>
    </span>
    <span> — and we can leave here. And remain free forever.” I was careful not to be too specific about who I was talking about. </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha continued to explain the nature of my tasks, how if I failed there would be nothing left of me for her to play with. How they would take place once a month on the full moon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And in the meantime?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the meantime,” Amarantha said a bit sharply, “you shall either remain in your cell or do whatever additional work I require.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you run me ragged, won’t that put me at a disadvantage?” she was losing interest quickly, but there was more I needed to cover.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing beyond basic housework. It’s only fair for you to earn your keep.” I nodded. “Then we are agreed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited for me to echo her response, but I said, “One more thing,” She bristled at my audacity. Her brows raised, but I could tell she was interested again. “The tasks will take place once a week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been torture of another kind to rot in my cell between the full moons with various broken bones and covered in dirt, blood, and filth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited a moment, just to see if I would recoil from her stark gaze or tremble at the prospect of failure. I stood my ground and waited for her shallow nod. “Very well then,” she said. “Is it agreed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I clung to the magic in my mind, the comfort Rhys was still offering me even here, even with what it cost him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let the thoughts run through my mind one last time, giving me strength before I replied. <em>Rhysand. Morrigan. Cassian. Azriel. Amren. Nesta. Elain. Lucien. Velaris.</em> I would do it for them. “Agreed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha gave me a small, horrible smile, and magic sizzled in the air between us as she snapped her fingers. She nestled back in her throne. “Give her a greeting worthy of my hall,” she said to someone behind me. It wasn't until then that I realized she hadn't offered a riddle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Attor’s hiss was my only warning as something rock hard collided with my jaw. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was thrown sideways from the force of it, but found no pain followed it. Rhys was there in my mind, making sure I felt no pain. Another brutal blow to my face. Bones crunched. I was thrown into a pit like a punching bag where I was met with another blow like a brick had been hurled at my face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood sprayed from my mouth, and its metallic tang coated my tongue before I knew no more. One final caress in my mind like a feather-light touch on my cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would like to thank Evermore by Taylor Swift for getting me through this chapter. <br/>Also, I just read The Song of Achilles and now I'm ~dead inside~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Cell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke slowly, my senses coming back to me one by one. The sound of dripping water first, then the fading of heavy footsteps. The taste of blood in my mouth. I explored the beginnings of a split lip, the movement setting my face on fire. I opened my eyes as much as the swelling would allow.</p>
<p>I was in a cell. My cell. It was all of my nightmares come to life. This cell had haunted my dreams years after sleeping under an open night sky, and it seemed to me that that fact was not soon to change. I would never escape these four walls.</p>
<p>I gathered my knees to my chest, fighting back a scream as pain flared in my muscles. I wasn’t so afraid of Amarantha, her cronies, and the torture they would bring. I had endured it all before. It was the memories that came flooding back that stole the breath from my lungs. I would never escape this place. I was damned to live here forever in eternal torment.</p>
<p>A whip cracked in some distant cell, and the ever-present screaming became louder. I flinched with the sound.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until strong hands materialized and landed on my shoulders that I realized I hadn’t been breathing. I was so lost in my panic that I could feel my heart stuttering to a stop. It all began again with a rush when Rhys gathered me in his arms.</p>
<p>“Breathe,” he whispered into my hair. He ran a soothing hand up and down my back, encouraging steady breaths. I melted into his embrace. “You will walk out of here again. I promise.” I must have been so far gone that I hadn’t realized his talons within my mind.</p>
<p>I said nothing. I matched my breaths to his, pressing my ear to his chest to hear the beat of his heart.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” He asked when my tears finally subsided and my breathing steadied.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” I answered, still not daring to move.</p>
<p>“At least let me heal you.” He started to move me, gentle hands bracing my arms as he sat forward.</p>
<p>“Lucien will be here soon.” I interrupted him before he could. “He’ll be down here any minute to heal my nose.” I winced as Rhys inspected the damage there with a gentle finger.</p>
<p>“It would hurt less if I did it,” he attempted.</p>
<p>“I’d have to explain who healed me when he comes. I don’t want to reveal anything that would backfire on you.”</p>
<p>A faint smile rose on his lips and a small flutter of happiness rose in me at the sight of it. That after all this, he wasn’t broken by it.</p>
<p>He raked his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp with a touch so tender I could have whimpered. I leaned into it and closed my eyes. “As touched as I am by your worry for me, this is more important. I can’t bear to see you so broken.” The ache in his voice meant I was broken in more ways than one. I stared into his violet eyes, taking in the sight — the stars that still flickered there — as I said,</p>
<p>“Nor I, you.”</p>
<p>It was another moment of sitting there, casually touching, reminding each other of what it felt like to be touched — to be loved. To wipe away the pain and violence that had inflicted us both so horribly these past months.</p>
<p>“Lucien doesn’t know the full extent of your injuries. He won’t question anything,” Rhys tried one last time to convince me. “Please let me do this for you.”</p>
<p>I smiled in lieu of a laugh I might have given at his pleading to heal me. As if my wounds hurt less than the pain he endured of seeing me wounded. I nodded my head slowly to keep my headache from worsening. A sigh from Rhysand before I heard him snap, a split second blinding pain, and then —</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>When I came to, Rhys was still holding me in his lap, but with significantly less tension in his frame. He held my face when he felt me wake and ran a thumb over my cheek. I was shocked I didn’t feel any pain or soreness there.</p>
<p>“The swelling is gone, along with the black eye,” he explained, noticing where my attention had gone. “Your nose is perfect again.”</p>
<p>I almost snorted a laugh as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of my now healed nose.</p>
<p>“I thought you said it’d hurt less,” I taunted, glad our banter was still alive and well amongst all this. I rubbed my nose to rid the tickle his lips had left behind.</p>
<p>“<em>Less</em> being the operative word.” He didn’t draw back from the closeness of his mocking peck, but resumed his kisses on other parts of my face — these far less taunting. His lips slowly and sweetly caressed my brow, down to my cheeks, across my eyelids, and finally to the edge of my mouth. Replacing all that pain and soreness with love and easy kisses. I couldn’t hold in my sigh as he made his path over my face.</p>
<p>All joking left his gaze when our eyes met, our lips barely a hairs breadth apart. He kissed me then, and it was like I could finally breathe again. Like I had been drowning and suddenly saved. Light at the end of a tunnel. My eyes fluttered shut and the world slipped away. His arms were wrapped around me and all was right with the world. His tongue pulled my lips to him and mine trailed his like mapping the stars. My fingers wove their way through his hair as they always did, and pulled. A sound left the back of his throat when I did that made me ache to be closer to him. I pressed my body to his, but no matter how I did, I couldn’t get close enough to him.</p>
<p>It was insanity.</p>
<p>When I surfaced from whatever high it was to love him, to be loved by him, I found myself lying on my back on my threadbare pallet of hay that served as my bed. Rhys above me and holding me tight. But his mouth wasn’t on me. “Someone’s coming.” He explained in a harsh whisper. “I’ll come back to you.”</p>
<p>I had no time to respond as he pressed one last kiss to my lips and winnowed away in a whirl of shadows and darkness.</p>
<p>I only managed to roll over to my side before my cell door opened with a grinding of metal on rusted metal and a head of fiery red hair slipped in.</p>
<p>“Feyre?”</p>
<p>I would have stood, but didn’t trust my legs. “Lucien?” I breathed, and the hay crunched as he dropped to the ground before me.</p>
<p>“By the Cauldron, are you okay?”</p>
<p>I could only nod with a trembling chin. A small light flared by his head, and as his eyes swam into view, the metal narrowed. Rhys had taken away the worst of my injuries, but the dirt and blood and broken skin remained. He hissed. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>I felt like slipping away from my body as we had the same conversation as we had before. Words of Alis and Tamlin floated in and out that held no weight with me. “I just… had to tell him that I love him,” I found myself saying. The words hadn’t changed, but the meaning behind them certainly had.</p>
<p>“You looked a lot worse in the throne room,” Lucien seceded when he finished explaining. His metal eye working as he took me in again.</p>
<p>“It would take all the fun out of it if I died, I guess.” I supplied half-heartedly.</p>
<p>Lucien saw right through my fickle excuse, but had no story to fill in the gaps. Amarantha was known for her cruelty, of making old injuries hurt just as badly as new ones. I supposed he offered his own excuses and nodded gravely. He shot to his feet after a sound my stupid human ears couldn’t pick up. “The guards are about to change rotations. Try not to die, will you?”</p>
<p>Lucien winnowed out of the cell a mere moment before a yellowish eye appeared at the peephole in the door, glared at me, and continued on.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>I dozed on and off for what could have been hours or days. I figured it hadn’t been too long, solely from the fact Rhys hadn’t visited my cell again. I didn’t struggle when the two faeries half dragged me to the throne room. Once there, I scanned the crowd for Lucien or Rhys but couldn’t find either of them before I was thrown at the foot of the dais. Amarantha wore a gown of rubies, drawing attention to her red hair and lips, which spread in a serpentine smile as I looked at her.</p>
<p>After all this time, I still hated the color.</p>
<p>The Faerie Queen clicked her tongue. “You look positively dreadful.” She turned to the ever silent male at her side. His expression remained distant. “Wouldn’t you say she’s taken a turn for the worse?”</p>
<p>He didn’t reply; he didn’t even meet my gaze.</p>
<p>“You know,” Amarantha mused, leaning against an arm of her throne, “I couldn’t sleep last night, and I realized why this morning.” I balled my hands into fists at what she must have done instead of sleeping — and with whom. “I don’t know your name. If you and I are going to be such close friends for these upcoming weeks, I should know your name, shouldn’t I?”</p>
<p>When I didn’t reply, she frowned. “Come, now, pet. You know my name — isn’t it fair that I know yours?” I spotted the Attor in the crowd, ready to beat it out of me. “After all” Amarantha waved an elegant hand, motioning to the space behind me— at the mangled body still hanging there. “you’ve already learned the consequences of giving false names.” I kept my mouth shut.</p>
<p>“Rhysand,” she called— not needing to raise her voice to summon him. The word dropped like a stone in my stomach. I immediately thought she knew what he was to me. What little it would take to break me if she acted on that information. And it would break me. I had been broken like that before. But at the sound of his casual steps behind me, I remembered. He was meant to scare me. He stopped close beside me and I had to remember to lean away from him rather than take his hand and lean toward the night rippling off him like a dark cloak.</p>
<p>Amarantha lifted her brows. “Is this the girl you saw at Tamlin’s estate?”</p>
<p>He brushed some invisible fleck of dust off his black tunic— the telltale sign of the mask of the dark High Lord. His eyes were thick with boredom as he surveyed me. “I suppose.”</p>
<p>“But did you or did you <em>not</em> tell me <em>that girl</em>,” Amarantha said, her tone sharpening as she pointed to Clare, “was the one you saw?”</p>
<p>He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Humans all look alike to me.”</p>
<p>The fact that he would know me blind almost prompted me to laugh at the words he said. But the look Amarantha gave kept any mirth from my lips. “And what about faeries?” She asked him with a saccharine smile.</p>
<p>Rhysand bowed again — so smooth it looked like a dance. “Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art.”</p>
<p>“What’s her name?” She demanded of him.</p>
<p>“How would I know? She lied to me.” Even now, even here, he was trying to protect me. It was a lost cause; we both knew this was not a fight worth having, and still he defended this one part of me.</p>
<p>“If you’re inclined to play games, girl, then I suppose we can do this the fun way.” At a snap of fingers, the Attor grabbed someone from the crowd. Red hair glinted and I jolted as Lucien was pulled from the crowd. It was no longer a surprise, but traumatic nonetheless. Lucien fought against it, but he could do nothing against those needlelike nails as it forced him to his knees. The Attor smiled, releasing his tunic, but kept close.</p>
<p>Amarantha flicked a finger in Rhysand’s direction. The High Lord of the Night Court lifted a groomed brow. “Hold his mind,” she commanded.</p>
<p>Lucien went utterly still, sweat gleaming on his neck as Rhysand bowed his head to the queen and faced him.</p>
<p>Lucien’s brothers emerged from the crowd and my hate for them returned in full force as I looked into their grinning faces. Eris the first of them.</p>
<p>“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders. Taking his lead.</p>
<p>Amarantha sighed. “I thought you learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” He kept his eyes shut. Ready to be wiped of everything he was.</p>
<p>“Her name?” she asked Tamlin, who didn’t reply. Rhys’ shoulders set a bit straighter.</p>
<p>Amarantha ran a nail down the arm of her throne. “I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien.”</p>
<p>“If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you,” Eris spoke. I hadn't known him by name the first time he spoke the words, but I did now. I knew the atrocities he committed against my best friend, and it didn’t matter that he would one day ally with the Night Court. I hated him.</p>
<p>Amarantha gave him a considering smile and lifted her hand. Rhysand cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly.</p>
<p>Lucien stiffened. A groan slipped out of him.</p>
<p>I noticed then, the terrified look on the face of the Lady of the Autumn Court and understood. She was not far from Helion, who looked sidelong at her with a grief I knew too well. The one currently on my mate’s face as I crumbled.</p>
<p>“Feyre!” I shouted. “My name is Feyre.”</p>
<p>From my knees, I saw Amarantha nod and Rhysand take a step back. He hadn’t removed his hands from his pockets. I felt his power brush over me like encouragement as the warmth of him left my side. For him to have this much power even with Amarantha’s cork on the magic of the High Lords… his power was not exaggerated. The thought no longer filled me with terror, but something else best not expressed here.</p>
<p>Rhysand faded into the crowd and I was alone again. We might have been enemies — a cat and mouse — to anyone looking at the pair of us, but I felt the loss like the floor being ripped from under me.</p>
<p>Lucien sagged on the ground, trembling. His brothers frowned.</p>
<p>Amarantha dismissed us from the room, happy with her information. She turned to smile at Tamlin as the guards hauled me away.</p>
<p><em>Tomorrow</em>, she had said as her voice grew distant. Tomorrow, my trials would begin.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys found me once again on the floor of my cell. Wordlessly, he pulled me to him, both of us taking comfort from the touch. “I remember,” he whispered into my hair after a moment of re-familiarizing myself with the feeling of curling into him. A feeling like going home. A bed molded to the shape of my body. “The first time I heard your name. It was then. When you gave it up for Lucien.” I turned my face up to his. “The answer I had been asking for a hundred years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We shared a gentle kiss, different from our desperate nearness earlier. “A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could have cried, but settled for a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinking how different all this would have been the first time around if I had had you there with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sly grin. “You did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But not like this.” I pressed my point my kissing his jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True.” He conceded with another smile. “Being able to hold you back then would have done wonders for my withering self-worth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I held him tighter to me at the mention of it. The half-moons imprinted in my palms from Amarantha’s insinuation in the throne room a constant reminder. “I’m so sorry.” I tried to express in a whisper that barely made it past my lips. “Did she—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t get to finish. “It doesn’t matter.” Rhys said, shaking his head. “You’re here now.” He laid us down, his back against the hay and hard ground, he used my steady weight on top of him like an anchor to the earth. My head rested in that spot I had carved for myself where his neck met his shoulder, my fingers tracing the markings on his chest I couldn’t see but knew the paths from memory. An easy position we had held each other in a million times before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinking about Tamlin,” Rhys finally said, offering his thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” I asked, my fingers halting their path. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s supposedly madly in love with you, and yet he does nothing. He does absolutely <em>nothing</em> to help you. He won’t even look in your direction. That doesn’t make you angry?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laid my head back down on his shoulder from where I had lifted it. “It does. I just don’t particularly care anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At first I told myself he did it because he thought if he had shown any affection for me, Amarantha would have made everything worse. I <em>died</em> for him, and he didn’t do anything.” None of this was doing anything to calm Rhys. “But I don’t love him anymore. I haven’t for a long time. Almost as long as I’ve been Fae.” Rhys’ fingertips graced the skin of my shoulder, bringing chills to the surface at the sensation. I brought my hand to his jaw, fingertips urging him to look at me. When his eyes met mine I said, “I have you. You always fought for me. Even then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes were dark as they held mine. “Even now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Even now.” </span>
  <span>I nodded my agreement, “and now I’ll fight for <em>you</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kissed my forehead in a touch that communicated so much that words would never convey. “Sleep, Feyre. I’ll be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The warmth of him was far more pleasurable than sleeping alone on the ground. His presence took away a bit of the bite of being back in this cell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the guards?” I asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right now, they’ve forgotten you exist,” he answered with a wink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This bed of hay is nothing more than stone. Don’t you have a bed upstairs?” I asked, even when I held him tighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feyre, sleeping next to you is far more comfortable than any feather-bed.” He didn’t mention that it might smell of another woman, and I pushed the thought from my mind. I was finally sleeping next to him after all these months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep, Feyre Darling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I closed my eyes and let sleep come over me, easier than it had in a while, of nights staring up at the stars. And while it felt like the stars were a million miles away from this place, I was right where I needed to be. I slept.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bonus points if you can catch the Song of Achilles quote.<br/>But seriously, all of your comments give me life and make me actually want to write. So thank you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Middengard Wyrm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sounds of the gathering crowd shook the walls as I was escorted down the passageway. I made no attempt to get away from my armed escort, knowing they would gut me before I could make it three feet. My lack of shackles was more mockery than anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was hauled toward a wooden platform erected above the crowd. Atop it sat Amarantha and Tamlin, and before it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Labyrinth haunted my nightmares little more than my cell. In those dreams, I was running for my life as I once had, but there was no escape in sight. There was no defeating the Wyrm. There was only broken bones, frozen mud, and endless running. Forever. And now I would be going back in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did my best to keep my chin high as I beheld the exposed maze of tunnels and trenches. The crowd stood along the banks, blocking my view of what lay within as I was thrown onto my knees before Amarantha’s platform. The half-frozen mud seeped into my pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I rose on trembling legs. Around the platform stood a group of six males — the High Lords. I locked eyes with Rhysand and his feline smile, the darkness around him. His brush against my mind was enough to keep my chin from falling and breaking into pieces. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well Feyre,” Amarantha spoke once she had silenced the crowd. “Your first task is here. Let us see how deep that human affection of yours runs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I ground my teeth and almost exposed them to her. Tamlin’s face remained blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I took the liberty of learning a few things about you,” the queen drawled. “It was only fair, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I knew what was coming for me when I leaned forward to inspect the trenches as I had been instructed. Hands slammed into my back, causing me to cry out as I fell. It wasn’t long before the Attor snatched me out of the air, much to the amusement of the Fae gathered there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mud squelched when I landed on my feet. It smelled as atrocious as I remembered — worse. But I swallowed my gag. I turned to Amarantha’s platform now floating to the lip of the trench. She looked down at me, smiling that serpent’s grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rhysand tells me you’re a huntress,” she said. How that must have been for Rhys, to give up that piece of him. The dreams of his mate that granted him solace in a dark place; a warren of rabbits I had found, an old barn, and a hand painting flowers on a table. His knowledge of me had increased a thousand-fold since our initial time here, but I couldn’t imagine the sacrifice it was to give up that piece of me — of himself — after he had already given so much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha flicked her fingers in my direction. “Hunt this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faeries cheered, and I saw gold flash between spindly, multi-hued palms. Betting on my life — on how long I would last once this started. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Release it,” Amarantha called. I trembled to the marrow of my bones as a grate groaned, and then a slithering, swift-moving noise filled the chamber.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My shoulders rose toward my ears. The crowd quieted to a murmur, silent enough to hear a kind of guttural grumble, so I could feel the vibrations in the ground as whatever it was rushed at me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha clicked her tongue, and I whipped my head to her. Her brows rose. “Run,” she whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it appeared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I ran. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could have been a dragon, for all it’s scales and rows upon rows of teeth. It’s lack of wings and legs was no hindrance to it as it barreled toward me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And I was running. Running for my life. My feet numb. Each pounding step I took another nail in my coffin. My only solace was that I knew I could kill it. Knew that it could be done. I ran and ran, sliding and skipping in the mud, hoping I could find it’s lair full of bones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had a thought that I might wake up from this nightmare. I would be in my bed with Rhys, who would hold me until I calmed. I would go to the paint shop, get lunch with Mor, flying lessons with Azriel because I still couldn’t stay in the air too long, make sure Cas and Nesta hadn’t killed each other yet, and all the while Rhys would be at my side, and everything would be okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this was a nightmare I would never wake up from. I would run here in this labyrinth forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there— that strange hole in the wall of mud. I vaulted myself for it, knowing it would eventually lead me to where I needed to go, and keep the Wyrm off my tail, affording me a couple moments to set my trap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My plan went smoothly after that. Or as smooth as a plan could go when you’re breaking bones over your knee with your life on the line. I stumbled out of the pit with my bone ladder with all the grace as a filth-covered human could, taking the time to make sure I was thoroughly covered in the mud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s building a trap.” Rhysand replied to the green-faced faerie in a deep, elegant voice. I wasn’t so far gone not to notice the hint of pride in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But the Middengard—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relies on it’s scent to see,” Rhysand answered, and I gave a special glower for him as I glanced at the rim of the trench and found him smiling down at me. “And Feyre just became invisible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His violet eyes twinkled. I flipped him off with a secret smile before I broke into a run, heading straight for the worm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I ran faster than I had thought possible, my legs threatening to give out. But with the Wyrm on my heel, I jumped — farther and higher but still not enough as I crashed down into the pit. Pain shot through my arm, but I embraced it. The Wrym was dead and I had won. I had proven my love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tightened my grip on the long bone in my hand. I didn’t check myself as I hurled it at Amarantha and her little smirk like a javelin. It embedded itself in the mud at her feet, splattering filth onto her white gown. The sight gave me even more pleasure the second time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faeries gasped again, and Amarantha stared at the wobbling bone before touching the mud on her bodice. She smiled slowly. “Naughty,” she tsked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was going to skin her alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you’ll be happy to learn most of my court lost a good deal of money tonight,” she said, picking up a piece of parchment. I looked to Rhysand for half of a second before I turned my attention back to Amarantha, but the triumph on his face was worth it. “Let’s see,” Amarantha went on, reading the paper as she toyed with Jurian’s finger bone at the end of her necklace. “Yes, I’d say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the first minute; some said you’d last five, and” — she turned over the paper — “and just one person said you would win.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Insulting, but not surprising. I didn’t fight as the Attor hauled me out of the trenches, dumping me at the foot of the platform before flying off. My arm burned at the impact and I tried not to think about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amarantha frowned at her list, and she waved a hand. “Take her away. I tire of her mundane face.” She clenched the arms of her throne hard enough that the whites of her knuckles showed. “Rhysand, come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I fought as much as I could in the red hands that grabbed at me, trying to see what was happening to Rhys as he prowled forward. As they yanked at me, a shooting pain lanced up my arm, causing me to bite back a scream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I looked at my left forearm then, and my stomach rose at the trickling blood and ripped tendons, at the lips of my skin pulled back to accomodate the shaft of a bone shard protruding clean through it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t look back to find any familiar face before pain consumed me whole, and I could barely manage to walk back to my cell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panic rose in me the longer I sat in my cell, watching my arm ooze blood and slowly inch toward infection. I couldn’t eat the rotten food they gave me. The sight of it only made me want to vomit. It didn’t help that I was still covered in mud, and the dungeon was perpetually freezing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was sitting with my back to the cool stone wall, my arm dangling at my side. Each of my breaths was like swallowing broken glass. My eyelids were heavy, stinging. I couldn’t go to sleep. I had to make sure the wound wasn’t infected, I had to… to…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door actually did move then— no, not the door, but the darkness around it, which seemed to ripple. A male figure formed out of the darkness, as if he’d stepped in from the cracks between the door and the wall, hardly more than a shadow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhysand was fully corporeal now, and his violet eyes glowed in the dim light. He slowly smiled from where he stood by the door. “What a sorry state for Tamlin’s champion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go to hell,” I answered with as much of a laugh I could muster. He knelt in front of me, the humor fading from his face as he took in my arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems we have a bargain to strike,” he said, his hands gently probing the wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At what cost?” I asked, trying to force some warmth into my voice. I wanted his worried expression gone. He smiled through his worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make a trade with you,” he said casually. “I’ll heal your arm in exchange for <em>you</em>. When we get out of here, come home with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think I should go back to the Spring Court?” I asked, ignoring the sink of my heart at the idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t pretend to know everything about repeating the past,” He answered slowly. “But I would rather die than have to send you back to that place. I wouldn’t survive going home without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded. “Then we have a deal,” I told him, holding his eyes with my own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The barest smile. “You know how deals are struck, Feyre,” he said, and for the first time since he arrived in my cell, the smile reached his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned forward to kiss me ever so gently, one hand cupping my face, the other on my wounded arm. His kiss distracted me from the pain that lanced through my arm before I felt no pain at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he pulled away, I took in the tattoo that now covered my arm. He had cleared all the mud from me, allowing me to see it. The familiar sight brought a smile to my face. I turned my hand over to examine my palm and the feline eye that looked back at me. “Really?” I asked Rhys, turning my palm for him to see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to be able to keep an eye on you while we’re down here,” he explained hesitantly. “Not knowing if you’re okay is… it’s like torture, Feyre.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When we get home, I want the mountains back.” I said with a smile, hoping he understood I wasn’t mad at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And not a moment longer.” He kissed my cheek and remained there at my side. “I have to go, she will be looking for me,” Rhys said after a moment, straightening himself. I latched onto his lapels before he could get too far. His hands went to my hips and held me there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s not punishing you, is she? For betting on me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “No.” He said it quietly enough that I didn’t quite believe him. “She won’t make it easy on me, but I don’t regret it.” His kiss to my forehead soothed most of my worry. “It’s almost over now, anyway,” he continued. “She’s latched onto Tamlin now, and he sleeps in her bed, so I’m awarded a bit of space.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But she’s not done with you, is she?” I couldn’t look him in the eye. It broke my heart that she had both of them — and forced Rhys to serve in her bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get through it.” The words were a whisper. “Rest up, Feyre.” He turned into nothing more than living shadow and vanished. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I first envisioned this chapter, I thought it would be a bit spicy, but I can't imagine Rhys craving that from Feyre when he's reliving his sexual assault trauma... it'll get better for him, I promise. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Perhaps I'll come back and expand if I do a second draft.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chores</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to preface this with an apology.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The tattoo on my arm was a lifeline to sanity as I frantically scrubbed at the floors of the hallway. I dunked the large brush into the bucket I had been given. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it’s not washed and shining by supper,” one of the faeries had said, it’s teeth clicking as it grinned, “we’re to tie you to the spit and give you a few good turns over the fire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, they had left. I scrubbed the floors until my arms were shaking with the force of my cleaning, but it was to no avail. The water I was given turned as brown as the floor and only made it worse when I used it to continue scrubbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I knew logically that Rhys would never let them roast me over the fire, but the knowledge of that fact did not stop the panic that rose in me as the water in my bucket became dirtier and dirtier the more I scrubbed. I had realized with a start that Rhys didn’t know about this chore, of the Lady of Autumn’s help. I could have called through the tattoo for him, but something kept me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A door clicked open somewhere down the hall, and I shot to my feet. An auburn head peered at me. I wasn’t so foolish this time as to believe Lucien was coming to help me. I gave a timid curtsy to the Lady of Autumn as she approached. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For giving her your name in place of my son’s life.” She pointed at the bucket with a too-slender hand. “My debt is paid.” She disappeared through the door she’d opened, leaving the smell of roasting chestnuts and crackling fires in her wake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shuddered, Rhys must have known after all, for he had held Lucien’s mind and waited for me to offer my name that day in the throne room. If I hadn’t, the High Lady would not have come to help me. I shivered to think of what Rhys was doing that prevented him from helping me himself. I allowed myself a moment to slump over my knees before I dumped some of the water onto the floor and watched it wash away the muck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To the chagrin of the guards, I had completed their impossible task. But the next day, they smiled at me as they shoved me into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles, and pointed to a looming fireplace. “Servant spilled lentils in the ash,” one of the guards grunted, tossing me a wooden bucket. “Clean it up before the occupant returns, or he’ll peel your skin off in strips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A slammed door, the click of a lock, and I was alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell nearly assaulted me. Citrus and sea. I hadn’t been so surrounded by him in months, save for the too rare moments where I got to just rest in his arms. The scent surrounded me like an embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let the bucket drop from my hands and crawled onto the enormous bed with silky black sheets. I sunk down and closed my eyes, and for a moment I could pretend I was home, in a bed that smelled like him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was somehow wrong. Sure, the sheets smelled like him, but not enough. As if he never slept here. There was nothing of him here, no books or weapons or discarded clothes to show that he had even been here. I tried to swallow my tears as best I could and buried my face into the pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long until the lock clicked, and I removed my tear-swollen face from his bedding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In all my fantasies of coming back and seeing you in my bed, I never imagined you crying.” He closed the door, locking it behind him. I wiped my face, hoping to quell the tears I hadn’t meant to release. He climbed onto the bed with me, bringing me to his chest. I knew he was turning over in his mind what could have been so saddening to bring me to tears, but I was in no mood to pour over it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let my hands trail under the hem of his shirt, running my fingers over his tan skin. Without even thinking, my leg came up to hook over his hip, pulling me that much closer to him. Being here with him, like this, was what I needed. The only thing that could console me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t last long, not with Rhys. A smile tugged at my lips as he stood from the bed and carried me bridal style to the bathing chamber where a bath was already prepared, steam rising from the surface. The sight was so unfamiliar and yet not that it felt like a mirage in the desert. Before I could even process what was happening in my addled state, my ruined clothes were gone along with his fine ones and I was being lowered into the water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a moan as my limbs submerged, weeks of dirt and exhaustion seeping from my skin and muscles. I couldn’t help but notice with a grin I would have shown if I wasn’t so caught up in the euphoria of the bath how Rhys had held me tighter at the sound I made. His shoulders were pressed back farther than normal, his hands gripping me like a vise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In another life, we would have poked fun and made a moment of seeing each other’s naked bodies for the first time in so long. But just then, all I could do was settle my back against his chest, my head leaning back on his shoulder from the fact that I simply couldn’t be bothered to strain the muscles required to lift my head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys seemed to be doing just the same behind me, his hands gently roaming on my hips as he rested back. I was sure the times he took a moment for himself to just relax were few and far between. I was just glad I could be there with him for this one. Granted— it wouldn’t be that relaxing for me if he wasn’t there. He was the only thing I trusted to make me feel safe in this hellhole. We had a little pocket of happiness between the two of us, surrounded by nothing but terror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before long, Rhys reached for a cloth and began his work of scrubbing every inch of my skin until it gleamed, taking much longer than necessary in some places. He soaked up water and let it pour over my head, soaking my neglected scalp. I let out more sounds I had no control over as he ran his fingers into my hair, working the soap and water throughout. I was practically squirming by the time he rinsed the soap out, and involuntarily made a sound that I didn’t recognize.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys recognized it though. I felt the evidence of it against my thigh, and the lingering kisses he trailed on the back of my neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As much as I liked the direction we were headed, I slipped out of his grasp and turned around to face him. I spared one tender, loving kiss to his lips before I found a cloth and lathered suds onto his skin. He didn’t need a bath half as bad as I had, but he needed this; a soft, unwanting reminder of unconditional love. It didn’t ask anything of him. Didn’t force his body to react in any certain way. This touch was the one he needed, with the past months of reliving his worst trauma over again. I would spend the rest of my life reminding him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I straddled his legs with my own and ran the cloth over his shoulders and down his chest, applying just enough pressure that he’d really feel it. I worked down to his stomach, tracing his muscles down to his thighs where I continued my work. I glanced at his face, and saw it set in a moment caught between pure bliss and unnameable sadness. Once I was sure every inch of his skin had gotten the same treatment, I leaned forward once more, pressing slow and tantalizing kisses to the hollow of his throat. His broad collar bones. Down the column of his chest. My hands roamed all the same. When they reached their destination, he gasped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feyre,” he croaked. I just continued my kisses as I stroked him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My lips made a path up his torso to his neck. That place between his neck and shoulder that I loved so much. Right beneath his jaw. He was hard as a rock in my hand as I moved for him, his hands on my ass and neck like an anchor to him. I shifted my hips vicariously, flicking my hand with it like a dance. The ripples in the water echoed the growl he let out at the movement. He thrusted up into my hand as if he had no choice, rewarded by my bite to his earlobe. His shudders sent waves through me and he chanted my name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feyre, Feyre, Feyre.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A plea. A reminder. A prayer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My tongue played games with his ear and back down his jaw, until I met with his lips. Mine crashed with his in an eager duel, his tongue in my mouth and mine working his lips. I worked him faster as our lips played and his body pulsed. My hips went with my hand, my breasts grazing his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rhys.” I whispered. There was a language we had. Not with words alone, but with tone and pitch and volume. He heard the yearning and pride in my word. The nickname he never heard anymore, within these earthen walls. And he was gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stayed there with him until the last of it, bringing him back down sweetly, with a smile on my lips I pressed into his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My head rose and fell from where I rested it over his heart with the beat of his breathing. He held me so tenderly, as if I were so fragile he might break me, but still couldn’t get close enough. I was content to just lie there in the cooling water, his fingers trailing through my still-wet hair. Rhys’ kisses on my forehead and hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His free hand was used to trace shapes on my arm and hand that were now completely covered in Illyrian tattoos. This Rhys that was so relaxed and present was so close to the Rhys that could be found at home. His fingers followed the tattoo, committing it to memory again. There was something on his face I was just starting to understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was for luck, wasn’t it?” I looked him in the eye, answering the question before he posed it, “The tattoo. The first time, I mean.” His shy smile revealed the truth. I had learned months later that tattoos were given in the Night Court not only as a marker of deals struck, but for luck in battle. The tattoos on Rhys’ shoulders were evidence of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You needed all the luck you could get.” He admitted with a shrug, the smile not fading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t admit that he was right, although we both knew he was. Any less luck and I would have died and stayed that way. Something that had warmed inside me in our little bubble chilled at the thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before I could let that thought grow and consume me, I sat up and hopped out of the large tub. The water was getting cold anyway. After a quick inspection of the bathing chamber, I spotted a towel and went to grab it. I half-heartedly dried off, not even bothering to touch my hair with the cloth, Rhys looking on waiting patiently for an explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to see your wings,” I said as loudly as I dared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face softened before he carefully stepped from the water, giving me a grand view of him. He snickered as he stalked foreword to stand directly in front of me, and then darkness surrounded him. Shadows snaked in from his very essence, and solidified into large, black wings on his back. There was nothing about him that wasn’t beautiful. But the wings made him whole. They were a part of him as solid as any other, and it made me feel light and airy to see. He hated his “beast form” that all High Lords had access to, but the wings were a gift from his mother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys’ smile matched mine as we both took hesitant steps toward each other. He pried the towel I had forgotten I was still holding and threw it around my back, holding on to both ends, effectively pulling me to him. With a snap of fingers, we were both dry, my hair no longer a matted and tangled mess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to see <em>your</em></span>
  <span> wings, Feyre, Darling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” I almost chuckled. “You and me both.” We were so close I spoke the words directly into him, but with the way his head was bent down to mine, I was not one to complain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scooped me up with arms around my thighs, parting them so they could wrap tight around his waist. He brought us from the bathing chamber to the room, and lowered me onto my back on the dark sheets of his bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rhys,” I got out in a breathless whisper. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does it look like I’m doing?” The words came from between nips at my breast that sent tremors through me. My legs tightened around him and my arms held tight, but he was getting way too close to forbidden territory. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something incredibly stupid,” I answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just hummed as he continued his descent, his hands on my wrists pinning them to the mattress. Theres no telling what horrors Amarantha would bestow upon us if she found out what lies between our souls. If we mated now, she and everyone here would know— and it would ruin everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That didn’t make it any easier to stop him as his lips trailed lower and lower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lower. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first pass of his tongue was as if he’d never touched me until this moment. I felt it in every nerve ending I possessed and nearly screamed as he descended upon that bundle of nerves. It was amazing what one month of almost-celibacy could do to a person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tormented me with his teeth and tongue, teasing and nipping at the sensitive skin with all the ferocity of a mountain cat ready to pounce. My wrists were released so that his hands might hold my hips in place for I had begun to grind toward that touch. I knew he was smiling as the pressure built inside me, one of his fingers aiding in the teasing. And another. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out, feeling the pressure all the way to my toes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That winding stopped immediately when he looked up, grinning, “I want to hear you scream, Feyre,” he spoke in a low growl that almost finished me on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B— but—” the objections died in my throat. Words were suddenly too complex to form, with his fingers working in and out of me. His other hand holding my thigh firm in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing that they don’t already assume is happening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had nothing to say as his mouth returned in full-force, and did not hold back the moan that came from my throat at the sensation. Rhysand seemed to chase that sound as his strokes became harder and more purposeful. His growl of approval rumbled through me and nearly sent me over the edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I unclenched one of my hands from where I had grasped one of the pillows in a death-grip, and twined my fingers through his hair, pulling not completely on purpose, but because I needed that something to hold onto. I could barely think around that building pressure low in my gut and in the tips of my toes. My cries rose in pitch until there was a different kind of sound, a gasp mixed with a moan. At that moment, Rhys’ free hand tightened my leg, almost lifting me off the bed with the force of it. His other curling and pounding into me more and more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I screamed his name as I shattered, completely out of space and time as he worked me through the violent waves of my pleasure. I was breathing heavily, trying to regain some sense of my body as I trembled. I could have been right back in that freezing inn as Rhys looked into my eyes and licked the taste of me off his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later I was gathered in his arms, just savoring his warmth before I would have to go back to my cauldron-forsaken cell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had found another set of clothes for me, not as bad as the ones I had worn previously, but in enough of a condition that no one would look twice. At least these were clean. I had a second of fear that someone would grow suspicious now that the dirt and blood had been cleaned from me, my hair brushed, but decided no one cared enough about me to notice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys— now in pants— brushed a quick kiss to my lips, interrupting my thoughts, “I care,” he said. His wings had disappeared, much to my dismay, but I was sure we didn’t have long until my guards would be back. So I promptly threw my arms around his neck and held him for a moment longer. The way his face pressed into my neck and his arms crushed me in, I knew he was thinking the same things I was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhys knew the guards were there outside the door before the tentative knock sounded. We kissed one last time, before the masks came up and the door opened. I held my arms close to my chest and shook— a traumatized human. I had no daemati powers then, but I could practically read their thoughts on their red faces. No, he hadn’t peeled my skin off in strips. It had been far worse. The two of them came to grasp me by both arms, but before they could, Rhys was in their way, towering over them, letting his shadows seep through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will not touch her,” Rhys commanded, still no shirt on, but none less threatening. “There will be no more chores, or tasks, or anything of the sort.” Their yellow eyes went glazed and dull, their teeth gleaming as their mouths slackened. “Tell the others, too. Stay out of her cell, and don’t touch her,” he repeated. “If you do, you’re to take your own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dazed, numb nods, then they blinked and straightened. I kept the mask of the terrified, tortured girl on. They beckoned— but didn’t dare touch me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>I will see you tonight</em>
  </span>
  <span>, Rhys spoke into my mind as I walked out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sooooo yeah. I know I said some things in the notes of the last chapter, but I liked the flow here. This chapter was pretty much the reason I wanted to write this fic in the first place, so I'm excited about that. <br/>Thank you so much for reading! I'm actually really proud of this one XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. To be continued...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey guys,</p>
<p>So it has been a while since I’ve updated, and I know how much that sucks for readers. </p>
<p>Trust me, I’ve spent enough time reading fanfic to know the pain of getting 20,000 words in and finding the story incomplete. </p>
<p>I just wanted to let y’all know that I’m okay, and this story is NOT abandoned. </p>
<p>Life is just kicking my ass lately. </p>
<p>I’m in the middle of finals week and there is so much going on with work, school and moving out that I haven’t had any spare time to do anything I want to do. </p>
<p>(Also, ACOSF and TCOGB came out, so I’m a little traumatized)</p>
<p>But I promise I’ll write soon!</p>
<p>Thank you for staying with me, and reading. Seeing your comments and kudos make my day, so please keep letting me know your thoughts, I love to hear them. </p>
<p>All my love,<br/>Kristen</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Faerie Wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>**An ACOSF spoiler announcement:** I feel as though I should make it clear that this fic takes place IN BETWEEN ACOWAR and ACOSF but before feyre gets pregnant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had foolishly expected Rhys to waltz into my cell from between the gaps in stone that surrounded me. It had almost seemed natural after how many times he had done it these past few days. He had needed me just as I had desperately needed him. So I was completely floored when Nuala and Cerridwen strolled in and grasped me by the arms, not an ounce of recognition on their faces at the sight of me. Tears pricked behind my eyes at the prospect. The twins that had become so dear to me once the Night Court became my home— such a steadfast presence in my life— were meeting me for the first time. I said nothing of this as they pulled me through the walls of my cell and down the hall.</p><p>I was washed and painted as I had once endured and eventually anticipated, some part of my mind slipping back to my first trip Under the Mountain when I had fought for the wrong High Lord. The High Lord who hadn’t fought for me. I was so close to collapsing within myself as I was draped in the sheer fabric that did nothing to conceal the most intimate parts of me. I felt a little piece of my soul slip away. I was hollowing out when I found Rhys leaning against the door frame, smirking at me. I kept the lift of my own lips from my face for the sake of the twins’ confusion.</p><p>And just like that I was back. I was brave and whole. Night Triumphant. Stars Eternal. Unyielding.</p><p>“You’re excused,” Rhys said to them, with much more familiarity than he would have shown in another time. “Thank you.”</p><p>The twins scuttled out with low curtsies and not a sound echoing from them. My surprise was a cool splash over me when I missed their presence as soon as they were out of sight. They had been a reminder of home.</p><p>Rhys stepped up to me, and I let the scent of him assault my senses, awakening me. Rhys <em>was</em> home. The only home I truly needed. I missed our river-front estate dearly, along with the rainbow and our walks along the Sidra, our flights over Velaris. But my mate was <em>home</em>. I would be fine as long as I was in his arms. I felt the phantom touch of his fingers gracing my collar bones as he once had, and watched the paint shift back into place. My lips turned up in the corners.</p><p>Hands on my chin, pulling my eyes away from the paint that covered every inch of me to look him in the eyes. “I want to make it abundantly clear that you do not have to do this.” Rhys growled in a deep tone that made my toes curl, our current location notwithstanding. “I don’t care what the damn time-line has to say about it.” He whispered the words onto my lips.</p><p>I doubted the parties I had blacked out from my human memory would cause any problems with time if I did not attend. I had initially gone in order to get out of that cold and dark cell. Rhys had made the vilification of his character a card to be played, and allowed me to believe he only dragged me to the parties in nothing but cobwebs just to piss off Tamlin and take some sick pleasure for himself. But he had done it for me, so that I wouldn’t have to lie in filth every night. It was an excuse to give me a warm bath, to drink something other than rancid water. And he had let me hate him for it.</p><p>“I much prefer your lap to my bed of hay,” I answered simply, no wavering in my voice.</p><p>It was enough to make him smile— a sight that sparked hope within me— but his grip on my upper arms tightened. He was no doubt replaying the events we were about to relive. How he had made me dance for him, all the while hating himself for it.</p><p>I rose up on my toes and pressed a quick but lingering kiss to his lips. “Ready to be wicked?” I asked him, repeating the same words he had given me before my debut in the Nightmare Court. Then, I had sat in his lap as well, a simple play-thing with no real importance. I was rewarded with a flicker of those stars in my mate’s violet eyes.</p><p>He didn’t say it out loud or even directly into my unguarded mind, but I saw the words in his eyes. In his grip on my arms and the way his chest pressed closer to mine. <em>I love you. </em></p><p>A quick quirk of my lips was all that was needed to return the sentiment.</p><p>~</p><p>We walked through the halls of the mountain. The sounds of rotten merriment rose ahead of us, and I struggled to resist grabbing Rhys’ hand. Every faerie we passed looked after me as if I were their next meal and they would enjoy picking the bits out of their teeth. I was certain my too-sheer dress didn’t help matters, although I was no longer afraid of my own body as I once was, my shoulders still slumped under the unwelcome gazes.</p><p>Faeries and High Fae gawked as we passed through the entrance. Some bowed to Rhysand, while others gaped. I spied several of Lucien’s brother’s gathered just inside the doors. Future alliance or not, I still despised the faces of the males who had tried to kill me out on the ice and had left Mor— my sister in all but blood— to die with a nail in her womb. But though I recognized them— I was nothing more than a human captive in their eyes. The smiles they gave me were nothing short of vulpine.</p><p>Rhysand didn’t touch me, but he walked close enough for it to be obvious that I was with him— that I belonged to him. The thought didn’t infuriate me like it once had. It meant no one would dare to try and hurt me. Not while I was with him. The tattoo on my arm was more than luck, but a physical reminder to any who might touch me what would be coming for them next. The thought filled me with some primal glee.</p><p>And it was enough to know that <em>he</em> was <em>mine</em>.</p><p>Whispers snaked under the shouts of celebrating, and even the music quieted as the crown parted and made a path for us to Amarantha’s Dais. I lifted my chin, the weight of the crown on my head a reminder of who I was. I had first thought the crown a mockery of my dirty humanity, but now I saw it for the message it was. What it told Amarantha.</p><p>Tamlin was seated beside her on that same throne, in his usual clothing, no weapons sheathed anywhere on him. When my eyes passed over his placid form in his dull throne, I felt nothing. No remorse, no sorrow, no guilt, and definitely no love.</p><p>“Merry midsummer,” Rhysand said, bowing to Amarantha. She worse a gown of lavender and orchid-purple— surprisingly modest. Our crowns were one of cultivated beauty and one of primordial and dark night. My paint and cobwebs made me a beautiful warrior, one that didn’t hide behind a box of hostage magic and a necklace of bone. I stood before the false queen with my head held high and my shoulders back. I’d beaten her first task. I’d beaten her menial chores. I could keep my damn head held high.</p><p>“What have you done with my captive?” she said, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.</p><p>Tamlin’s face was like stone— like stone, save for the white-knuckled grip on the arms of his throne. No claws. He was able to keep that sign of his temper at bay at least. I could say at least that for Tamlin’s display of love. He obviously didn’t like seeing me like this.</p><p>“We made a bargain,” Rhysand said. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. He ran his fingers down my cheek— a gentle caress. The throne room was all too quiet as he spoke his next words to Tamlin. “One week with me at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task.” He raised my left arm to reveal the tattoo, whose ink didn’t shine as much as the paint on my body. “For the rest of her life,” he added casually, his eyes were now upon Amarantha, but only I knew what that half-smile was about.</p><p>The Faerie Queen straightened a little bit— even Jurian’s eye seemed fixed on me, on Rhys. <em>For the rest of my life.</em> He said it as if it were going to be a long, long while.</p><p>“Enjoy my party” was Amarantha’s only reply as she toyed with the bone at the end of her necklace. Dismissed, Rhysand put a hand on my back to steer us away.</p><p>A short time later, I found myself staring down at a glass full of faerie wine in my grasp, my mate leaning over my shoulder as if he were drinking up my wariness and fear like his own wine. He leaned in closer, presumably to whisper something perverted and terrifying, “This is not the same wine,” he whispered. I could feel his sinister half smile that didn’t match his words. “It’s just wine. No memory loss involved.”</p><p>He paused for a moment. I let my shoulders shudder at the breath that caressed my neck. I could feel Tamlin’s brutal stare at my back, but refused to meet it. I didn't have time or the room in my head to worry about him and his feelings now. I had to save my people. </p><p>“Although if you do wish to forget…”</p><p>He didn’t get to finish. I brought the bubbly drink to my lips and downed nearly all of it. There was no way I was leaving my mate to face this whole room alone, and take care of me while he was at it. Not that I expected Rhys to watch me like a hawk should I get hammered in a room full of Fae that would very much like to kill me, I just knew he would. And I would ease that burden however I could. I could already tell that I was not going to get more than arms-reach away from him tonight, but if I was at least lucid and sober, Rhys might not be so on edge.</p><p>A laugh and a brush of fingers against my own. The glass was taken from me as I was led to a chair just off the empty space I assumed was left for dancing. This thought was solidified when I spotted a group of Fae doing what some might call <em>dancing</em> and others might call a shrouded version of <em>Calanmai</em>. I hadn’t even noticed Rhysand take a seat before his hands were pulling me into his lap.</p><p>I let myself fall into him— ever the lightweight human— and gave a little laugh. I felt his hands continue to roam around my waist. Gentle strokes up and down my sides and over my hips. It was so very lewd if you saw us from afar. My body covered only in paint and cobwebs, and the hungry look on the High Lord’s face. But between us was pure electricity. I would never feel out of place here, in his embrace.</p><p>I rolled my hips over Rhys’, exaggerating the movement so that others might see. The softest of groans from Rhys sounded in my ear. My chest was pressed to his back, his arms wrapping around me as if he could keep me there forever as I continued the movements.</p><p>I knew he wouldn’t have done it if we hadn’t already been mated in another life (another time?) but when I felt his thumb brush the underside of my breast, my breath involuntarily hitched. Rhys’ grip there on my ribcage and his other hand on my thigh tightened and pulled me all the more closer to him.</p><p>That sound had so often driven Rhys out of his mind. Sometimes he had dedicated entire evenings to eliciting that sound from me alone. His grip loosened, and he pushed me further away from him. I immediately missed the warmth. “Dance for me, Feyre.” He whispered, for me and everyone.</p><p>I knew Tamlin was watching again, though I couldn’t care less as I turned to fully face my mate and leaned my face down toward his. I braced myself on his shoulders, swaying my hips in large arcs as I went. His hand lifted to my hip as it tilted toward him. I leaned my head to the side, letting my hair fall over my shoulder, exposing not only my breasts to him, but my throat.</p><p>Sure it was undeniably sexy, even from a rotten human like me. But baring my throat to him? That was a new level of debauchery. For the Fae, a bite there was a claiming. A statement. Tamlin had tried that once, and I would have nearly killed him for it if I had had my Fae strength. I was sure with the way Rhys’ hands tightened on me that if I told him of the incident now, he would kill Tamlin for me. He would have a long time ago if I hadn’t stopped him. But in my mates’ lap, spread on top of him with my body moving in ways I had forgotten, our masks solidified completely. I was under this High Lord’s spell.</p><p>And I was.</p><p>I showed him that I trusted him. I would allow no other here. He looked into my eyes, and for a moment I saw through that mask he wore. Pure, unfiltered pride and awe shone through, his eyes glittering with love for the barest second, for my eyes only, before it was replaced by that detached, hungry desire.</p><p>Instead of a bite, he pressed the lightest of kisses right where my shoulder met my neck. Just to prove he could. He wasn’t just taunting me, but this whole room. The heat of his breath fluttered over my pulse and sent reverberations through my body. I was sure the whole room was aware of my changing scent, and how my movements became slower, closer, more sure. This was a game I knew how to play. I could feel the stares of all kinds of faeries lingering on me, those both seated in thrones and not. I could tell Rhys felt them too, if the possessive way he gripped my hips told me anything. I hid my smile in the junction of his neck. My tongue found it’s way into that little dip between his collar bones—</p><p>“I must admit, Rhysand,” came a voice from just behind my mate. I forced myself to not to react, to hold the illusion of a human black-out drunk on faerie wine. “This is a level I never thought you’d stoop to.”</p><p>Rhys blinked up at Eris who sipped from his glass as if this were any other conversation and not a dig at what my mate was forced to do night after night. I arched my back a bit more, in an effort to see the fire-headed faerie without completely giving myself away, an easy smile plastered on my face. I saw the reluctant hunger in his eyes for just a moment.</p><p>“I mean,” he amended quickly, clearing his throat, “surely our queen is better between the sheets than this human thing.” He said it with such nonchalance that one would have to be insane to disagree with him. I was fucking tired of these games.</p><p>I sat myself in Rhys’ lap, my hair falling down my back as I arched it over to the side. Both the males gazes averted back to me, but I had eyes only for one. I was practically grinding on him now, rather than dancing. I heard no music other than my own heartbeat in my ears and the restless chatter throughout the throne room.</p><p>Rhys’ sinister gaze flicked back to Eris. I could practically feel the jealousy radiating off him, muddled by his anger and primal protective instincts. Rhys let me into his mind, making me a voyeur into the heir of the autumn court’s thoughts. He must have felt how annoyed I was at my loss of daemati powers. I choked on a bitter laugh when I heard the thoughts running through, accompanied my the sight of me— painted and practically naked— dancing in my mate’s lap, leaving nothing to the imagination.</p><p>
  <em>Who is he, to have such a prize?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He must be using her to piss off Tamlin, after that business with his mother.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If Amarantha-</em>
</p><p>His thought cut out when another took its place.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps I will visit her cell tonight. </em>
</p><p>Rhys’ mental talons were gone from my mind in a fraction of a second. Before I could even process what had happened, Rhys was out of his chair, taking me with him by the force of it. I somehow managed not to fall to the ground— mainly by Rhysand’s hands clamped on my arms as he shoved me behind him.</p><p>This was about the time I broke my way out of his embrace, wanting to fight my own battles, but I was a human with no powers and no clothes. I laid a tentative hand between his shoulder blades.</p><p><em>I am here. </em>I wanted to say. <em>I am with you. Don't expose us. </em></p><p>My mate towered over the male, who did his best not to shrink back at the glimpse of power of this High Lord. The shadows of pure glittering night seeped from him like steam rising through the air. If anger were personified, this would be a perfect rendering. His magic was a crackling fire, barely restrained. I saw the reminder of Rhys’ unimaginable power hit Eris as his eyes widened. This was only a remnant of what he had before Amarantha came.</p><p>“If you even think—” Rhys growled in a slow voice that would send weaker males running with metaphorical and literal tails between their legs. My own skin broke into chills at the sound— although it wasn’t fear that brought it on.</p><p>An interruption from the Queen kept my mate from doing anything too rash and tipping us over on the wrong side of the needle we had balanced ourselves on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You'll be happy to know that instead of studying for finals, I wrote this chapter!</p><p>tell me your Eris theories!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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